


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




































































































































• , . 





Je suis moi, le GSnerale Boome. [From Fun in Dormitory, page 166.] 

I AM THE GREAT GENERAL BOOME. 









BOLAX 

IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 

BY MRS. JOSEPHINE CULPEPER 

\\ 

> > 

JOHN MURPHY COMPANY. 

Baltimore: New York : 

200 W. Lombard Street, 70 Fifth Avenue. 

1907. 






LIBRARY of OONfiRfSS 
Two Cooie« Received 

MAY 29 190/ 

h Copyneht Entry 
CUSsO /{ XXc,, No.' 

/ 7 70 77 

COPY B. J 


Copyright 1907, by 
o7WrB. Josephine Culpeper 



PRINTED BY JOHN MURPHY COMPANY 


Dedicated to my best beloved 
pupils , especially the children of 
the Late Dr. William V. Keating , 
and those of Joseph R. Carpenter , 
by their old governess. 

• v \ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

Amy’s Company, 1 

CHAPTER II. 

The Wonderful Ride, 9 

CHAPTER III. 

The Party 19 

CHAPTER IV. 

Pleasant Controversy, 29 

CHAPTER V. 

The Picnic, 38 

CHAPTER VI. 

A Talk About Our Boys, 52 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Fight, 61 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Coal Man, 78 

CHAPTER IX. 

Amy’s Trip to the Seashore, . ... 89 

CHAPTER X. 

Christmas and "‘Little Christmas,” or King's 

Day 100 


PAGE. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Practising, 116 

CHAPTER XII. 

First Communion, 1B0 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Unforseen Events, 146 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Bolax Goes to College, ..... 167 

CHAPTER XV. 

Letter From a Friend, 174 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Bolax Leaves College for Vacation, 


196 



ONLY A BOY. 


Only a boy with his noise and fun, 

The veriest mystery under the sun ; 

As brimful of mischief and wit and glee 
As ever a human frame can be, 

And as hard to manage as — ah ! ah. me! 

’Tis hard to tell, 

Yet we love him well. 

Only a boy, with his fearful tread, 

Who cannot be driven, but must be led ; 

Who troubles the neighbors’ dogs and cats, 
And tears more clothes, and spoils more hats, 
Loses more tops and kites and bats 
Than would stock a store, 

For a year or more. 

Only a boy, with his wild, strange ways, 

With his idle hours on busy days ; 

With his queer remarks and his odd replies, 
Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise, 

Often brilliant for one of his size, 

As a meteor hurl’d, 

From the pleasant world. 

Only a boy, who will be a man 
If Nature goes on with her first great plan — 
If water, or fire, or some fatal snare 
Conspire not to rob use of this our heir, 

Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care, 
Our torment, our joy, 

“Our only boy.” 


— Anonymous. 


BOLAX 

IMP OR ANGEL-WHICH? 


CHAPTER I. 

“Come children,” said Mrs. Allen, “Mamma wants 
to take you for a nice walk.” , 

“Oh, please, dear Mamma, wait awhile ! Bolax and 
I have company !” This from little Amy, Bo’s sister. 

Mrs. Allen looked around the room, and saw sev- 
eral chairs placed before the fire; but seeing no vis- 
itors, was about to sit in the large arm chair. 

“Oh, dear Mamma,” said Amy, “please do not take 
that chair! That’s for poor old St. Joseph; he will 
be here presently.” 

Turning toward the chair nearest the fire, the 
child bowed down to the floor, saying : “Little Jesus 
I love you! When will St. Joseph be here?” 

Then bowing before the next chair: “Blessed 
Mother, are you comfortable? Here is a footstool.” 

Mrs. Allen went into the hall, and was about to 
close the door, when Bolax called out: “Oh, Ma 
dear, please don’t shut the door. Here comes St. 
Joseph and five beautiful angels.” 

Mrs. Allen was rather startled at the positive 
manner in which this was said, and unconsciously 
stepped aside, as if really to make way for the celes- 
tial visitors. Then leaving the children to amuse 
themselves, she listened to them from an adjoin- 
ing room. This is what she heard : 

[i] 


BOLAX : 


Amy — Dear St. Joseph please sit down; blessed 
angels, I am sorry that I haven’t enough chairs, but 
you can rest on your beautiful wings. 

Bolax — Little Jesus, I’m so glad you’ve come. 
Mamma says you are very powerful, even if you are 
so little. I want to ask you lots of things. Do you 
see these round pieces of tin? Well, won’t you 
please change them all into dollars, so we can have 
money for the poor, and sister Amy won’t be crying 
in the street when she has no money to give all the 
blind and the lame people we meet. And dear Jesus, 
let me whisper — I want a gun. 

Amy — Dear Blessed Mother please make poor 
Miss Ogden well. I heard her tell my Mamma she was 
afraid to die; and she is very sick. She has such a 
sad face, and she looks mis’able. 

Bolax — Sister, won’t you ask lots of things for 
me? I’m afraid to ask ’cause I was naughty this 
morning. I dyed pussy’s hair with Papa’s red ink. 

Amy — -No, I won’t ask any more favors; Mamma 
says we must be thankful for all we get, so let us 
sing a hymn of thanks. 

Here Papa came upstairs calling for his babies. 
Mrs. Allen not wishing to disturb the children, beck- 
oned him into her room, hoping he would listen to 
the innocent prattle of his little ones. All uncon- 
scious of being observed, the children continued to 
entertain their heavenly guests. 

Mr. Allen not being a Catholic, was more shocked 
than edified at what he thought the hallucination 
of the children, and spoke rather sternly to his wife. 
“All this nonsense comes from your constant talk 
on subjects beyond the comprehension of children. 

[ 2 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Amy is an emotional child ; she will become a 
dreamer, a spiritualist; it will affect her nervous 
system and you will have yourself to blame. 

As for Bolax, I have no fear for him. He’ll never 

be too pious. I’m willing to ” Here they were 

startled by a most unearthly yell, and Master Bo 
rushed into the room, saying that Amy would not 
let him play with her. 

“Why won’t she?” asked Papa. 

“Oh, because I upset St. Joseph; I wanted to take 
the chairs for a train of cars.” 

Papa broke into a fit of laughter, and said : “Bo, 
Bo, you’re the funniest youngster I ever heard of.” 

Poor Little Amy came into the room, looking as if 
ready to cry, telling her mother she would never 
again have that boy when her company came. “Just 
think, dear Ma, Bo said he liked monkeys better 
than angels.” 

The serious face of the little girl caused her 
mother to wonder if the child really saw the holy 
spirits. 

Mrs. Allen consoled her little daughter, telling 
her Bo would be more thoughtful and better be- 
haved when he should be a few years older. 

“Come now,” said she, “we will go to see poor 
little Tommie Hoden. I am sure from the appear- 
ance of the boy, the family must be in very great 
distress.” 

It was a beautiful day. The hyacinths were in 
bloom, and there were daffodils, tulips, and forget- 
me-nots, almost ready to open ; the cherry trees were 
white with blossoms, and the apple trees covered 
with buds. The glad beautiful spring had fully 

[ 3 ] 


BOLAX: 


come with its lovely treasures and everything seemed 
delighting in the sweet air and sunshine. 

Miss Beldon, a neighbor, was digging her flower- 
beds, and asked where they were going. 

“I want to visit that poor little fellow, Tommy 
Hoden, who comes here so often,” said Mrs. Allen. 

“You’re not going to Hoden’s,” cried Miss Beldon ; 
“why the father is an awful man !” 

“So much the more need of helping him, and that 
poor neglected boy of his,” answered Mrs. Allen. 
“Can you tell me exactly where they live?” 

“Yes, in a horrid old hut, near Duff Mills. You 
can’t miss it, for it is the meanest of all those tum- 
ble-down shanties. I do wish you wouldn’t go, it 
won’t do any good.” 

“Our Lord will take care of that,” said Mrs. 
Allen. “I am only going to do the part of the work 
He assigns me, and take food to the hungry.” 

“Well, said Miss Beldon, I wouldn’t go for fifty 
dollars. The man is never sober, and he won’t like 
to be interfered with. I shouldn’t wonder if he 
would shoot at you.” 

Mrs. Allen laughed, and said anything so tragic 
was not likely to happen, and then went to get a 
basket of food to take to Tommy Hoden. 

They set forth on their walk, Bo holding fast to 
his mother’s hand while Amy loitered on the way, 
gathering wild flowers. “Do you really, truly think 
Tom’s father would shoot at us?” asked Bo. 

“No, indeed, dear. I hope you are not afraid.” 

“Well — no — dear Ma, not very afraid;” and the 
little fellow drew a deep sigh; only I — I — hope he 
won’t shoot you, dear Ma.” 

[ 4 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“Well I am afraid!” said Amy, in a somewhat 
shamefaced manner. 

“Please, Ma dear, let me go back and I will kneel 
before our Blessed Lady’s picture and pray for the 
poor man all the time you are away. 

“That is very sweet of you, dear. Now Bo, per- 
haps you had better return with Amy. I can go 
alone. 

“No; no; I won’t go back. I want to take care 
of my own dear Mamma. I’m not a bit afraid now.” 

“W r ell, dear,” said Mrs. Allen, “I will tell you 
what I want to do for Tom and his father. I will try 
to get Tom to go to school every day and to catechism 
class on Sundays. I think that would make a 
better boy of him. Then I hope to persuade his 
father to sign the temperance pledge and go to 
work.” 

Bolax undersood what his mother meant by this, 
for Mrs. Allen made a constant companion of the 
child; and although only five, she taught him to 
recite a piece on Temperance. 

The walk to the mills was very pleasant, with the 
exception of about half a mile of the distance, just 
as the road turned off from the village; here were 
a number of wretched old buildings, occupied by 
very poor and, for the most part, very wicked 
people. 

Somewhat removed from the others stood a hovel 
more dilapidated, if possible, than the rest. To- 
wards this Mrs. Allen, still holding Bolax by the 
hand, bent her steps, and gently rapped at the door. 

No one answered, but something that sounded 
like the growl of a beast proceeded from within. 

m 


BOLAX : 


After repeating the rap twice or three times, she 
pushed the door wider open and walked in. The 
room upon which it opened was small and low, and 
lighted by a single window, over which hung a thick 
network of spider webs; the dingy walls were fes- 
tooned in like manner; the clay floor was so filthy, 
that, for a moment, Mrs. Allen shrunk from step- 
ping upon it. 

In a corner of the wretched room sat Tom’s father, 
smoking an old pipe. He was a rough, bad-looking 
man with shaggy hair hanging over his face and 
bleared eyes that glared at his visitors with no 
gentle expression. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“Your little boy sometimes comes to our place,” 
answered Mrs. Allen, “so I thought I would come to 
see him, and bring him some cakes; children are so 
fond of sweets.” 

“Very kind of you, I’m sure, ma’am, though I 
don’t know why you should take the trouble,” and 
the glare of his eyes softened a little; “you’re the 
first woman that’s crossed that ere threshold since 
Molly was carried out. I ha’n’t got no chair.’ 

“Oh, never mind. I did not come to make a long 
call,” said Mrs. Allen. 

The lady looked around the wretched room in 
vain, for a shelf or table on which to deposit the con- 
tents of her basket. At last she saw a closet, and 
while placing the articles of food in it, talked to old 
Hoden as if he had been the most respectable man 
in the county. 

“Is Tom at home, Mr. Hoden?” 

[ 6 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“What d’ye want of him? I never know where 
he is.” 

“I heard you ought to be a Catholic,” continued 
Mrs. Allen, “and I thought you would not object 
to Tom’s coming to my catchism class on Sunday.” 

“He ain’t got no clothes fit to go ; besides I reckon 
it would’nt do no good to send him, for he ain't 
never seen the inside of a church.” 

“Well, Mr. Hoden, couldn’t you come yourself?” 

“It is me, ma’am? I haven’t been near a church 
or priest for twenty-five years. Poor Molly tried to 
make me go, but she gave it up as a bad job. You 
may try your hand on Tom for all I care.” 

“I am much obliged to you for giving me leave 
to try,” said Mrs. Allen, smiling; “I should not have 
asked Tom to come without your permission, Mr. 
Hoden. Good-bye, sir.” 

The poor wretch seemed dazed, and did not reply 
to the lady’s polite leave-taking. 

After she was gone, he said to himself: “I won- 
der what that one is up to. I never heerd such 
smooth talk in my life. Well it do make me feel 
good to be spoke to like I were a gentleman. f‘d 
give a good bit to know who sent her here, and why 
she come.” 

Ah, poor soul, it was the charity of Jesus Christ 
that prompted the lady to go to you; and many a 
fervent prayer she and her children will say for 
your conversion. 

“Mamma,” said Bolax, on the way home, “that 
man is not so dreadful bad.” 

“Why do you think that, dear?” 

“Because I saw a picture of the Sacred Heart 

[ 7 ] 


BOLAX : 


pasted on the wall inside the closet; it is all over 
grease and flyspects, but you know you told me 
Jesus gave a blessing to any house that had a picture 
of His Sacred Heart in it.” 


CHAPTER II. 


The Wonderful Ride. 

“Hurrah ! Hurrah !” shouted Bolax, “Amy where 
are you? ’Want to tell you something fine.” Amy 
was watering her flower-bed, and did not pay much 
attention to the little brother who was always hav- 
ing something “fine” to tell. 

“What is it now, Bo dear.” Oh something real 
splendid this time.” 

“Please tell me then,” said Amy getting a little 
impatient. 

“You’ll be so glad, Amy. Mamma and auntie 
say they are going to have a party on the 21st be- 
cause it is your birthday and St. Aloysius’ birth- 
day.” 

“Did they? really truly!” exclaimed Amy; and 
the staid little lady danced up and down the porch 
wild with delight at the prospect of a “really truly” 
party. 

Just then Aunt Lucy came up the steps laden with 
roses, for it was June, the month of the beautiful 
queen of flowers. 

Mrs. Allen took particular pains to cultivate with 
her own hands, all varieties of red roses, from deep 
crimson to the brilliant Jacqueminot, so that she 
could always have a bouquet to send to the Church 
every Sunday and Friday, during the month of the 
[ 9 ] 


BOLAX : 


Sacred Heart, besides keeping her own little altar 
well supplied. 

“Oh, Auntie, dear !” said Amy, “I’m so happy ! Bo 
says I’m to have a party.” “Well, yes, darling; you 
know you will be seven on the 21st, so Mamma and 
I want to make you happy because you have always 
tried to be a good obedient little girl.” 

Thank you, thank you, auntie, and Amy gave 
Aunt Lucy a big hug and kiss. 

“May I carry the roses to the Oratory auntie, 
dear ?” 

“Yes, Child, but I must go too, for I forgot to 
light the lamp before the picture of thu Sacred 
Heart, and it should never be extinuguished during 
this month.” 

While arranging the altar Amy began with her 
usual string of questions, which were always lis- 
tened to, and answered, for Mrs. Allen and her sis- 
ter never allowed themselves to be “too busy to talk 
to children.” 

“Auntie, why do we burn lamps before statues and 
holy pictures? Mollie Lane asked me that question 
when she was in here yesterday, and I did not know 
how to explain, then she laughed and said it was so 
funny to have artificial light in the day time.” 

“My dear, we burn lamps and candles on the altar 
for several reasons, which it would take too long to 
tell you just now; when you are older, I will give 
you a little book called “Sacramentals,” which ex- 
plains all about the lights on our altars, the use of 
holy water, blessed palm, the crucifix, etc. For the 
present it suffices to tell any one who questions you 
that the lamp in our Oratory is kept burning as a 
[ 10 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


mark of respect towards the Sacred Heart of Jesus, 
and besides it is a pretty ornament.” 

What a bower of loveliness, peace and rest was the 
little hall-room which Mrs. Allen set apart as a 
“Holy of Holies” for her household. A subdued light 
glimmered through the latticed windows, which also 
admitted the soft summer air that wafted the fra- 
grance of flowers over the family, as they knelt at 
their devotion. 

There was time to pray in that house, and al- 
though its head was not a Catholic, he approved of 
his family living up to all they professed ; in fact he 
was proud of the little tabernacle in his house, and 
frequently, when he had visitors, invited them up- 
stairs to see the Oratory. 

While Aunt Lucy and Amy were occupied, Bolax 
went out to the stable hoping Pat, the hired man, 
would talk to him; but Pat had gone to the village 
on an errand, then Bo came back to the house and 
called for his Mamma. As mother did not respond 
immediately he screamed as loud as he could : “Ma, 
dear!” Ma, dear!” 

Mrs. Allen opened her door and asked why he 
spoke in such a disagreeable tone of voice. 

“Well, I have no one to play with,” he whined. “I 
want sister, can’t she come down?” 

“Now dearie be a good little man, don’t whine, go 
and amuse yourself; Amy is at her lessons with 
Aunt Lucy, and I am writing to Papa. I should like 
to be able to tell him you were a good boy.” 

“Where is Papa now?” asked Bo. “Away off in 
Kansas, dear.” 


[ 11 ] 


BOLAX : 


“There, do not disturb me and I will be with you 
presently.” 

Thus left to himself Bo went to his never-failing 
source of amusement — swinging on the gate. 
While enjoying himself, he heard the rumble of 
wagon-wheels, and jumped down to see what was 
coming. It happened to be the milk boy, Pete Hop- 
kins — “Hello, Pete!” said Bo. Hello yourself,” said 
Pete. “Give me a ride,” begged Bo. “I don’t mind,” 
said the good-natured fellow and jumping out of his 
cart, lifted the child to the seat beside him. 

Bolax had often been allowed to ride to the end 
of the road with Pete, because Mrs. Allen knew him 
to be a respectable boy. 

When he came to the usual getting-off place, Pete 
forgot somehow to put the child down, and, of 
course, Bo couldn’t think, he was too much inter- 
ested in a story Pete was telling about his pet goose, 
that always followed one of the cows, and came to 
him to have her head scratched. 

Pete did not realize how far he was taking the 
boy, until the horse stopped before his own door. 
“Great Scot !” exclaimed he, “I’ll ketch it, youngster. 
I didn’t mean to carry you all this way.” 

But as you are here, I’ll show you the calves and 
my pet goose.” Saying this, Pete lifted Bo out of the 
cart. The child clapped his hands and shouted with 
delight as he caught sight of a flock of sheep feeding 
in the meadow next to the barn, then Pete called 
Nancy, the pet goose, and Bo laughed at her queer 
way of waddling from side to side after her master, 
and gabbling as if trying to talk to him. * 

“I want to see your colt now,” said Bo, Pete asked 

[ 12 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


him to wait a minute while he went into the stable 
to make sure the colt was tied securely, for the 
animal was quiet unbroken, and children were not to 
be trusted near him. 

Bo waited a “hundred hours,” which was always 
his manner of computing time, when in anticipa- 
tion of pleasure; then spying a nice white pig in a 
field nearby, rubbing her back against the fence, he 
made a dash towards her, put one leg through the 
rails just across piggie’s back. Up jumped the pig 
with the boy astride, whether by accident or design, 
no one could tell. 

Bo was delighted at the unexpected pleasure of a 
real piggie-back ride, and laughed and shouted in his 
glee. 

Pete having fastened the door of the colt’s stall, 
and made sure he could be safely approached, went 
out of the stable to call Bolax, but by this time mas- 
ter harum scarum was off on his prancing steed. 
For a moment, Pete stood amazed not knowing what 
to make of the strange sight, then finding his voice, 
called out lustily “Hi ! Hi ! little fellow, stop ! you’ll 
be killed !” At the same time he could scarcely keep 
his feet for laughing. 

Two farmhands tried to “head off” the animal, but 
Bo had caught hold of her ears to keep himself bal- 
anced, and the tighter he held on the wilder ran poor 
piggie. 

Pete’s mother came rushing out, and seeing the 
dangerous position of the child began scolding, her 
harsh voice striking terror into the heart of unlucky 
Pete. 


[ 13 ] 


BOLAX : 


“You big stupid. How come you to let that baby 
do such a fool trick ?” 

“Don’t stand there gaping. Head off the wild 
critter or she’ll get out on the road.” 

But the warning came too late, for at that mo- 
ment down the lane flew the frightened animal, 
Bolax boldly clinging to its back. 

Mrs. Hopkins, her hair all flying, rushed after him 
making the echoes ring with her screams. Pete be- 
wildered, did not know which way to run; the two 
hired men and several neighbors joined in the chase. 

Finally piggie plunged into a little creek by the 
roadside and Bo was dismounted. He got a thor- 
ough ducking and a few bruises, but received no seri- 
ous injury. 

Mrs. Hopkins carried the child into the house, and 
having changed his clothes made Pete hitch up the 
buggy, for, as she said: “I’ll take the little imp to 
his mother, and tell her never to let him show his 
nose on my place again. 

As for you, Pete Hopkins, if ever I ketch you 
bringing any child on these premises, you’ll be sore 
for a month.” 

When Mrs. Allen had written her letter she called 
Bolax, not finding him on the lawn, she went into 
the kitchen, supposing Hetty, the cook, was enter- 
taining him, for she often had the children in roars 
of laughter, with her funny stories about “Brer 
Rabbit” and the Pickaninys down Souf.” 

But Hetty “hadn’t laid an eye on dat boy since 
breakfus.” 

Mrs. Allen waited a while longer, then became 
quite uneasy. 


[ 14 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Going to the gate she looked up and down the 
road. 

Miss Beldon saw her and asked if she was looking 
for Bolax. Yes, said Mrs. Allen, he has been missing 
for two hours and I am very much worried about 
him. 

Well, I saw him get into a wagon right at your 
gate, said Miss Beldon. Poor Mrs. Allen began to 
think of Charlie Ross, and every other kidnapping 
story she had ever heard of. Aunt Lucy and Amy 
shared her anxiety. 

Pat went into the woods to look for him and Hetty 
took the road to the village, thinking he might be 
found in that direction. 

Mrs. Allen went to her refuge in all trouble, the 
Oratory. 

There she knelt and implored the Blessed Virgin 
and St. Joseph to help her find her darling boy; she 
felt sure the Divine Mother would sympathize with 
her, in remembrance of the anxiety she had suffered 
when the Holy Child was lost for three days. 

It was nearly noon when Mrs. Hopkins’ buggy 
stopped at the gate. Miss Beldon and Aunt Lucy 
were overjoyed on seeing the child, Amy ran down 
the path to meet him, calling back to Mamma that 
Bolax had been found. 

Mrs. Allen, being a very nervous person became 
hysterical on hearing the good news. Aunt Lucy 
took the boy in her arms, and the usually happy 
little face assumed a grave expression when he saw 
his mother seated on the piazza with her handker- 
chief to her eyes. 

Mrs. Hopkins told the whole story of the wild 
[ 15 ] 


BOLAX : 


ride and begged the ladies never to trust children 
with her “Pete,” for she said: “I must tell you 
he ain’t got the sense of a kitten and he is no more 
use than a last year’s bird’s nest with the bottom 
knocked out.” 

When Bo saw the state his mother was in, he 
realized how naughty he had been to leave home 
without permission. “Dear Ma,” said he, “I’m so 
sorry, I didn’t mean to stay away. Pete took me by 
mistake, and I didn’t know I was staying so long. 

Mrs. Allen said not a word of reproof to the child, 
but taking his hand, led him quietly upstairs to the 
Oratory, and left him. Bo felt his mother’s silence 
more keenly than if she had given him a long lecture. 

Calling her sister, Mrs. Allen said: “Lucy go to 
that child, he is in the Oratory. When he comes 
out, put him to bed. I must keep away from him 
while I am so excited and nervous ; I will wait until 
I shall have become calm, to reprimand him.” 

Aunt Lucy went to the door to peep in at Bo, this 
is the prayer she heard him say : “Dear little Jesus 
and Holy Mother, I’m sorry I frightened my darling 
mamma. I didn’t know I was away such a long 
time, but it was such fun dear Jesus, you would 
laugh yourself if you had seen me on that pig.” 

Aunt Lucy ran away from the door, trying to 
smother her laughter, and going to her sister’s room 
told what she had heard. 

“Now, sister,” she begged, “do forgive our boy this 
time, there is no guile in the little soul, and the way 
he speaks to Our Lord is so sweet, I cannot have the 
heart to scold him.” 

‘That is all very well, Lucy, but I fear if I trusted 

[ 16 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


him to you always, he would be a very spoiled child.” 

Here a little voice was heard begging mamma to 
come and see how sorry her boy was. 

Mrs. Allen let the little delinquent off with a mild 
reproof, and two hours in bed, which he needed as a 
rest after his wonderful exertions of the morning. 

Little Amy begged Mamma to allow her to remain 
with Brother and offered to tell him a story, but he 
preferred having her recite a new piece she had just 
learned. 


CORINNE’S MUSICALE. 

By Margaret Sidney. 

Inside of me says I am naughty, 

But truly, I know I am not ; 

For if Brother Joe could see me 
Right in this very spot, 

He’d let me do just as I’m doing, 

I’m very sure ; that is, perhaps — 

Oh, dear ! however, do big folks 
Hold this thing straight in their laps? 

It slips, an’ it slips an it slips, 

You naughty old Banjo, oh, dear ! 

Is he coming? then what will he do 
To find me sitting up here ! 

Ho, ho, ’twas a mouse — how silly 
And frightened I’ve actually been; 

For he’d say : “If you hold it quite still 
You may take it, I’m willing, Corinne !” 

I know, so now I’ll begin it ; 

How does he go “tumty turn ting,” 

And make such beautiful tunes, 

Too lovely for anything? 

[ 17 ] 


BOLAX : 


I ain’t a bit afraid they may hear, 

The house-people ’way off below — 

Me playing in Brother Joe’s room, 

Still I’d better be careful, you know. 

If they didn’t say ’twas amusing, 

I sh’d think ’twas stupid to play, 

To tug at such tiresome strings 

An’ make them come over this way ; 

But it must be delightful, I’ll pull 
A very fine tune at first ; 

Now, tumty-tum twang !” 

It sounds as if something had burst ! 

That string must a truly been cracked, 

Don’t you s’pose? or moth-eaten p’raps ; 

Tisn’t pleasant to practice I’m sure, 

But forlorn, when anything flaps 
So I guess I’ve finished ; hark ! hark ! 

He really is coming — oh, my ! 

Now, Banjo, I know Mamma wants me, 

An’ so I must bid you good-bye. 

“Wasn’t she a naughty girl,” said Bo, “I wouldn’t 
do that. I never touch Aunt Lucy’s banjo — only 
sometimes — but I don’t break it.” 


CHAPTER III. 


The Party. 

Great preparations were made for Amy’s seventh 
birthday. Uncle Dick, who was an electrician, sent 
a number of portable electric lamps to help in the 
decorations. 

Aunt Lucy proposed having tableaux and pieces 
for the evening entertainment, as a welcome home to 
Papa Allen, who was expected soon to return from 
his Western trip. 

Amy wanted everything arranged in “sevens,” as 
she expressed it. So she invited seven girls and 
seven boys and seven grown up people. There were 
to be seven kinds of candy and cakes, etc., and 
Mamma and Aunt Lucy worked with all their hearts 
to make Amy’s seventh birthday a never-to-be-for- 
gotten pleasure. 

It was agreed that every eatable which was set on 
the table for the children, should be made at home, 
so Miss Sweetwood, who was an expert in candy 
making, came to spend a week, and devoted her time 
to the manufacture of all manner of dainty bonbons. 

Aunt Lucy and Hetty took charge of the cooking, 
and the birthday cake came from their hands a most 
beautiful, as well as delicious, confection. There 
were seven sugar ornaments made like sconces to 
hold the candles, the one in the centre resembling a 
white lily, was for a blessed candle; Mrs. Allen al- 
ways managed to smuggle a pious thought into every 
act connected with the children. 

[ 19 ] 


BOLAX: 


Two days before the party, Papa Allen arrived, 
bringing a present for Amy, which was received with 
wildest shouts of delight from both children, but 
was not so welcome to the grown-up members of the 
family, viz. — A goat. 

Hetty came to bid a “welcome home” with the rest 
of the family, but held up her hands when she saw 
the new arrival and exclaimed. “Fo’ de land’s sake ! 
Massa Allen, you done brought a match for Bolax 
now, for sure.” 

Early on the morning of the twenty-first, before 
anyone else in the house thought of stirring, Bo’s 
eyes were wide open. 

A robin perched on a bough of an apple tree just 
outside the window, was singing his merriest, the 
sun was shining straight into the room and upon 
Bo’s crib. “Guess that sun woke me up,” said he, 
watching with delight the bright beams as they 
glanced and shimmered about the walls and over the 
carpet. “When it gets to Mamma’s bed it will wake 
her up too.” “Oh! I’m so tired waiting.” Then 
jumping out of his crib, he ran over to Amy’s bed, 
and sang out. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. 
Hurrah ! for your birthday, sister. Amy rubbed her 
eyes, and having made the sign of the cross, for she 
never forgot to give her first thought to God, was 
ready to join Bolax in hurrahing for the anticipated 
pleasures of the day. 

First of all, the goat was remembered, and 
scarcely waiting to dress, both children ran to play 
with the new pet. 

For a short time Bo allowed Amy to enjoy her 

[ 20 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


present, but soon lie began to tease, and would not 
let her lead the goat where she pleased. 

“It’s my own pet!” cried she, “Papa brought it to 
me.” “Well,” said Bo, “you might let me have a 
lend of it.” “Yes, but you take such a long lend, and 
you are so cruel,” and Amy tried to pull the goat 
away, but Bo held on, screaming and getting into a 
temper. 

Papa heard the noise and called out to know the 
cause of the disturbance. “Papa,” said the gentle 
little girl, “I am willing to let Bo have Nanny for a 
long time, but he won’t give me a chance to play 
with her at all, and he’s tormenting the poor thing, 
making Don bark at her, just to see her try to butt.” 

Aunt Lucy ran out to settle the dispute. Just 
then the breakfast bell rang and Nanny was left in 
peace. After breakfast Mamma recommended the 
children not to tire themselves, as the party would 
begin at four o’clock in the afternoon, and they must 
be ready to receive their little friends and help to 
amuse them. But nothing would induce Bo to give 
up playing with the goat, at dinner time he was still 
taking “one more lend of her.” 

Gentle Amy, who generally gave up to her little 
brother, could not help feeling sorry for the unfortu- 
nate animal, and begged to have it sent to the stable. 

“Bo, dear,” said Aunt Lucy, “do let poor Nanny 
rest a while, you have not given her time to eat to- 
day.” “Why Auntie she’s had lots to eat. I gave 
her two of my handkerchiefs, and one of Amy’s, and 
she ate them up, but she seems not to like colored 
handkerchiefs, for I gave her one of Hetty’s, and she 
just took a bite, then spit it out.” 


BOLAX : 


Hetty happened to come to the pump just as Bo 
was showing the handkerchief, and she fairly 
screamed when she saw it. 

“For de land’s sake! you Bolax. Look what you 
been a doin’. Here’s my best Bandanna half chewed 
up by dat goat.” “Well, Hetty, you told me goats 
like to eat clothes, and I thought your bandanna 
would taste good to Nanny, because it is so pretty, 
but she did’nt like it.’ 

“Oh, you just shut up, you bad boy; you is made 
up of mischief ; you’ bones is full of it. Clar to good- 
ness, I never was so put upon, no time, no whars.” 

Bo was very much surprised at Hetty’s outburst 
of anger and looked quite frightened, he offered to 
give her all the pennies in his bank to buy a new 
bandanna, but she would not be pacified, and still 
continued to scold. 

“Hetty, dear,” said the little culprit, “please don’t 
speak so hard, it hurts my heart.” But angry Hetty 
continued with : “You certainly is one of dem. 
Massa Bo, you’se done so much mischief dis here 
day, and it’s Miss Amy’s birthday too; if I was you 
I’d go to de Oritey and pray de good Lord to hold 
you in, if He kin, just for de rest of dis day, I’se 
afraid you g’wine to spile all de fun dis arternoon by 
some of your fool tricks.” 

Bo seeing Hetty was determined to remain angry, 
ran off to escape further scolding. AVhen he was 
gone Aunt Lucy told Hetty she must blame herself 
for the loss of her handkerchief, as she had told the 
child about the calves and goats feeding on such things 
“You see, Hetty, as yet Bo does not know what an 
untruth means, and cannot distinguish between 
[ 22 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


joke and earnest, he firmly believes all that grown 
up people tell him, and I have no doubt, thought that 
he was giving a dainty morsel to the goat, when he 
offered her your best bandanna.” 

“Oh you! Miss Lucy, you always takes up for 
dat boy.” 

“Yes, and there’s some one else,” ‘takes up’ for 
him, sometimes, and her name is Hetty.” 

At three o’clock Mamma and Aunt Lucy dressed 
the children. Amy was as usual in blue and white, 
for she had been consecrated to the Blessed Virgin, 
from the time she was a baby. Her dress for the 
occasion was very beautiful, trimmed with soft 
laces, a present from her Godmother, and she looked 
like a little princes, with her long golden curls and 
dark eyes. 

Bo wore his black velvet kilt, with a large lace col- 
lar, and the sweet little face, peeping out from be- 
neath his crown of curls, might have been taken for 
something angelic, if one did not get a glimpse of his 
mischievous gray eye. 

Promptly at four, the children tropped in; Amy 
did the honors in a most charming manner, and Bo 
amused the boys by showing them his numerous 
pets. Games of all kinds were played, and judging 
from the laughter and noise, Amy’s guests were hav- 
ing what is called “a good time.” 

Never was there a more glorious twenty-first of 
June; the sky was so blue and bright, not the least 
bit of a cloud was to be seen, the air was balmy and 
entirely free from dampness, so the table for the chil- 
dren was set under the trees on the lawn. A snowy 
white cloth was spread and places arranged for four- 
[ 23 ] 


BOLAX : 


teen. Before each cover was a pretty box containing 
candied fruit, to each box was attached a card with 
these words in gilt letters : From Amy to her 
friends, this was to be carried home as a souvenir. 
In the centre of the table the birthday cake stood on 
a bank of red and white roses. These bouquets of 
flowers were placed between pyramids of ice cream 
and mounds of toothsome dainties. Delicious white 
and red and pink raspberries were served on plates 
resembling green leaves. 

As the clock struck six, the children were called 
to take their places at the table, but just as they 
were seated, who should walk up the garden path, 
but Father Leonard, the dearest friend of the family. 
Mr. and Mrs. Allen hastened to greet him: “Well, 
well,” said he, “what is all this?” Amy ran to wel- 
come her favorite and told him it was her birthday 
party. “Now my little daughter,” said the good 
father. “I feel very much slighted at not receiving 
an invitation.” “Oh !” replied the little lady, “please 
do not be offended, but come sit at the head of the 
table and ask blessing on my feast.” This the good 
father did most joyfully, and when the youngsters 
were seated, every one showed his appreciation of 
the good things by the dispatch with which the plat- 
ters were cleared. Aunt Lucy’s famous drop cakes 
disappeared in such numbers, that some of the Mam- 
ma’s began to fear they would have to nurse cases of 
indigestion. 

At length the time came to cut the birthday cake. 
The seven candles upon it had remained lighted dur- 
ing the repast and Mr. Allen put them out before 
dividing it; he was just going to extinguish the last 
[ 24 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


one, when Master Bo jumped on the table, regard- 
less of all propriety, and cried out, “Oh, Papa, let 
me blow out the middle candle, that is a blessed one 
and I want to breathe the holy smoke.” 

There was a hearty laugh at this and Father 
Leonard enjoyed the joke more than any one. When 
he could manage to speak after the hilarity had sub- 
sided he asked : “Bo, why did you want to breathe 
the holy smoke?” “Because,” answered the boy, 
“Hetty says the mischief spirit is in me, and I 
wanted to smoke it out. Again there was an out- 
burst of laughter, although only the older folks un- 
derstood the wit of Bo’s remark. 

After supper the children prepared for the enter- 
tainment. Those who were to speak or sing went 
with Aunty Lucy and Miss May to have some last 
finishing touches put to their toilet, and make sure 
they remembered their pieces. 

The end of the piazza had been arranged as a 
stage. Three large Japanese screens formed a back 
ground and an arch of white climbing roses and 
honey suckles served instead of a drop curtain. 
Groups of electric lamps had been placed so as to 
have the light fall directly on the little actors. 
Chairs and benches for the audience were arranged 
on the lawn just opposite the arch. At half past 
eight o’clock, it was sufficiently dark to bring out 
the illumination on the piazza, so the show began. 

The first scene represented Amy seated on a chair, 
which was draped with gilt paper, festooned with 
flowers and resembled a veritable golden throne. 
From behind the scene came seven children carry- 
ing flowers and singing : 

[ 25 ] 


BOLAX : 


We come, we come from hill and dell 
To welcome her we love so well, 

We come on wings of silver light, 

For ’tis our Amy’s festal night. 

We bring her from our fairy bowers 
Tiny buds and opening flowers, 

In mystic language they all shall tell 
We love our darling Amy well. 

Then one of the little girls placed a crown of Lilies 
of the Valley on the little queen’s head, and the other 
children laid their flowers at her feet. 

This was a total surprise to Amy, for the children 
had been told not to let her know they were learn- 
ing the song; her sweet face was a study while she 
received the homage of her little friends, but she was 
equal to the occasion, and rising from her seat made 
a profound bow and said, “Thank you ! Oh ! I thank 
you so much.” After this came a violin solo by 
Adolph Lane, which was extremely well rendered. 
Edith Scot and her brother danced the “Sailors’ 
Hornpipe” dressed in fancy costume. 

Bolax and his chum, Robbie Thornton, spoke 
Whitcomb Riley’s “ When the World Busts 
Through.” Suggested by an earthquake. 

Where’s a boy a-goin’ ; 

An’ what’s he goin’ to do, 

And how’s he goin’ to do it 
When the world busts through? 

Ma says “she can’t tell 
What we’re cornin’ to !” 

An’ Pop says, “He‘s jest skeered 
Clean-plum through. 


[ 26 ] 


Second Boy. 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Suppose we’d be a playin’ 

Out in the street, 

An’ the ground ’nd split up 
“Bout forty feet ! 

Ma says, “She jest knows 

We ’ud tumble in 

An’ Pop’s says, “Bet you, 

Den you wouldn’t grin. 

First Boy. 


S’pose we’d jest be pretendin’ 

Like we had a show, 

Down in the stable 
Where we mustn’t go — 

Ma says, “the earthquake 
Might make it fall 
An’ Pop says, “more’n like 
Swaller barn an’ all.” 

Landy ! ef we wuz 
Runin’ away from school, 

Down in the shady woods 
Where it’s all so cool ! 

Ma says “a big tree 
Might squash our head 
An’ Pop says, “chop ’em out 
Both killed-dead.” 

Both Boys. 


But where is a boy a-goin’, 

An’ what’s he goin’ to do, 

An’ how’s he going’ to do it, 

Ef the world bust through. 

The little fellows recited this with scared faces 
and such comical gravity as to keep every one laugh- 
ing. Amy came next with “Songs of Seven,” by Jean 
Ingelow. 


[ 27 ] 


BOLAX : 


There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover, 

There’s no rain left in Heaven, 

I’ve said my Seven times over and over, 

Seven times one are seven. 

I am old, so old, I can write a letter, 

My birthday lessons are done ; 

The lambs play always, they know no better ; 

They are only one times one. 

Oh, moon ! in the night I’ve seen you sailing 
And shining so round and low, 

You were bright; ah, bright! but your light is 
Failing, you are nothing now but a bow. 

You moon, have you done something wrong in Heaven 
That God has hidden your face? 

I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven, 

And shine again in your place. 

Oh, velvet bee, you’re a dusty fellow ; 

You’ve powdered your wings with gold ; 

Oh, brave Marsh — marigold rich and yellow 
Give me you’re money to hold. 

And show me your nest with the young ones in it ; 

I will not steal them away ! 

I am old, you may trust me, Linnet, Linnet, 

I am seven years old today. 

This was beautifully rendered and such a very 
appropriate selection for a seventh birthday. The 
entertainment ended, every one prepared to go home, 
one and all expressing their delight and declaring 
it was the most enjoyable birthday party they had 
ever witnessed. 


[ 28 ] 


CHAPTER IV. 


Pleasant Controversy. 

Mr. Allen sat on the porch smoking, when Mr. 
Steck, the Lutheran minister, opened the gate and 
walked in. Mr. Allen greeted him cordially and in- 
vited him to be seated. 

The day was warm, but there was always a breeze 
on the corner of that porch, where the odor of the 
honeysuckle and climbing roses, which gave shade, 
made it a most inviting spot to rest. 

“Have a segar,” Mr. Steck.” Thank you, Mr. 
Allen, I am glad to see you at home on a week day, 
it is so seldom you take a holiday. Holidays are not 
for men with a family to support; you may thank 
your stars, you are a bachelor.” “That sounds as 
though you think I have a great share of leisure 
time. Well, I acknownledge my duties in this vil- 
lage are not very onerous, still I find enough to do.” 
By the way, I have just been to see Miss Ogden. It 
is wonderful how the poor girl clings to life. As I 
left her house, I met Amy and Bolax, the dear chil- 
dren asked so kindly after the dying girl, but Bo — 
now don’t be offended Mr. Allen, I have always taken 
a great interest in that boy having known him from 
a baby; he is wonderfully bright, makes such witty 
remarks, and does such tormenting mischief at 
times,” interrupted Mr. Allen. “Well,” continued 
Mr. Steck, “when I told the children how ill Miss 
Ogden was, Bo gave me this medal of St. Benedict, 
telling me to put it on the poor girl’s neck, and she 
[ 29 ] 


J30LAX : 


would be sure to get well. I asked who told him 
that? Then Amy looked at me so earnestly and 
said : “Oh, Saint Benedict can cure anybody. You 

know he was a great doctor when he was on earth, 
and he was so good our Lord gave him power to cure 
people who wear his medal.” Yes, and he cured 
Nannie,” said Bo, “see I have the medal on her yet ; 
and lifting a daisy chain he showed me the medal on 
the goat’s neck. “Ha! ha! ha! laughed Mr. Allen, 
that’s so like Bolax, he is a mixture of imp and 
angel.” 

“Now my friend,” continued Mr. Steck, “allow me 
to ask you, who have been brought up an Episco- 
palian, if you approve of such superstitions? I did 
not suppose that educated Romanists entered into 
ridiculous practices of this sort; putting faith in — 
well, I might as well say it: Idols!” — Hold on. Mr. 
Steck, I am not versed in the theology of the Cath- 
olic Church, and do not try to account for a great 
many little customs such as my little ones spoke about, 
but I’ll venture to assert they do not injure the souls 
or bodies of those who believe in them. My wife never 
bothers me about her religion, never enters into con- 
troversy, although I have a notion, that on the sly, 
she is praying me into it. 

“And from what you say,” remarked Mr. Steck, 
“I think her prayers are being heard. I don’t object 
to the Catholic religion; I think many of its doc- 
trines are good and sound, but it would be more edi- 
fying to the general run of Christians, if there 
were not so many superstitious practices allowed.” 
Come, now Mr. Steck do not condemn what you do 
not understand. I travel a great deal as you know, 
[30] . 


IMP OR ANGEL -WHICH? 


and often attend churches of different denomina- 
tions; but whenever I try to get an explanation of 
their various beliefs, one and all answer me some- 
what in this manner : “Well, I don’t believe thus and 
so; I don’t approve of this or that doctrine, etc. I 
never can get any of them to say right out what they 
do believe. One point only do they all agree upon 
and that is, condemnation of the Roman Catholic 
Church. Opening a memorandum book, Mr. Allen 
took out a paper saying, here is a hymn which 
I heard sung in a Campbellite Sunday School : 

“Come to me my little Children, 

Sing and raise your voices high ; 

Sing of Jesus, not of Mary, 

Nor other popish patron saints ; 

They can neither save nor help us, 

Nor attend to our Complaints ; 

Tell your little popish neighbors 
How to Jesus they may go 
If they wish to get to Heaven, 

They must worship Him alone.” 

Very poor verse, but I copied it from one of the 
Hymn Books. Now, what can be gained by teaching 
children such absurdities? If you were intimately 
acquainted with Catholic little ones, you would find 
they bring Jesus into their daily lives more than do 
those who are taught to ridicule them.” 

“Oh,” said Mr. Steck, “I admit there are many 
ignorant preachers out West, who think they honor 
God by abusing the Catholic religion, but you never 
hear me or Mr. Patton make use of an uncharitable 
word in connection with any one religion.” 


[ 31 ] 


BOLAX : 


“Mr. Steck let me tell you that even the children 
of illiterate parents, who are practical Catholics, 
you will find able to answer questions about their 
religion, and keep Jesus in their thoughts. Just to 
give you an example: yesterday my wife went over 
to Miss Scrips and found her tying up a rosebush in 
the garden, the cook’s little boy, about seven years 
old, held the branch for her, while doing this, he 
uttered a cry of pain, tears came into his eyes, but 
checking himself, he said: “Oh, if one thorn hurts 
so much how dreadful He must have suffered with 
His head all covered with thorns. Poor Jesus !’ 
“Indeed,” said Mr. Steck, “that was extraor- 
dinary. He must be an exceptional boy. Such a 
child will die young, or be a great preacher some day.” 
“Well, I just tell this one instance,” replied Mr. 
Allen, “to let you see the impression made on the 
heart of Catholic children by constantly keeping 
before them incidents in the life of Christ. 

“Papa! Papa!” was heard in the distance. Mr. 
Allen got up saying: “That sounds like Bolax. Go- 
ing to the gate he saw a crowd of youngsters follow- 
ing Bo, who was vainly trying to catch the goat. 
Nan was tearing down the road with Roy, Buz and 
Don his pet dogs, in full chase after her. It was too 
funny to see Nan turn on the dogs, stand on hind 
legs and with a loud Ma-a-a ! start off again. 

“I wish I were a few years younger,” said Mr. 
Steck, “I’d join in the chase.” Mr. Allen tried to 
head Nan off, Bo kept yelling — “Papa make the dogs 
stop barking, it frightens poor Nan.” In going to 
the rescue, Mr. Allen left the garden gate open, 
Nannie rushed in tearing over the flower beds, to the 
[ 32 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


great dismay of the onlookers, especially Hetty who 
had come out to see what the row was about, grumb- 
ling to herself : “If yo’ flower beds is spiled, youse 
got yu’ own self to blame, Mr. Allen, it ain’t no sense 
in havin’ so many live creters round de place no 
how.” 

Pat came on the scene laughing in his good- 
natured way and catching the goat led her off to the 
stable. 

“Don’t whip poor Nannie,” cried Bolax, “it wasn’t 
her fault, it was the dogs that made her run through 
the flowers, but, oh — Pat don’t whip them neither ; it 
was the boys who sicked them on Nan. “I’ll not bate 
any of them shure,” said Pat, “Master Bo, it’s your- 
self is the tender-hearted spalpeen after all.” Mr. 
Steck patted the boy, who looked ready to cry and 
consoled him by promising him a ride on horse- 
back. “ Good-bye, my little man. Good-bye Mr. 
Steck,” said Mr. Allen, “come again whenever you 
want to see a circus.” 

Papa did not say much about the wreck of his 
flower beds, seeing the distress of his little boy. 
Hetty took him into the kitchen to comfort him and 
put on a clean blouse. Mamma, Aunt Lucy and Amy 
had been out all the afternoon, so Bolax tried to 
amuse himself. Looking out of the window, he saw 
Buz, Roy and Don hunting something in the straw- 
berry patch. Off he started to see what they were 
after. To his surprise, all three dogs were eating 
the nice big strawberries; he chased them out, and 
going through the fence went into the woods fol- 
lowed by the three rascals. Bo gathered all sorts of 
“plunder,” as Hetty called his treasures. 

[ 33 ] 


BOLAX : 


When Aunt Lucy came home, he called to her, say- 
ing he had such a beautiful horrible bug to show her. 
“I know you’ll like him, he’s a tremendous big fel- 
low, I put him in your soap dish to save him for 
you.” On opening the soap dish, however, the “beau- 
tiful horrible bug” was nowhere to be seen, although 
Aunt Lucy looked carefully in every corner and 
crevice for she did not fancy sleeping in a room with 
such company. 

To pacify Bolax for the loss of his treasure Aunt 
Lucy told him about a stag-beetle her uncle had as a 
pet. “Uncle would put a drop of brandy and water 
in a spoon, and Mr. Beetle would sip a little, and 
then dance about, sometimes he would get quite 
frolicsome, and behave in such a funny way, stagger- 
ing round, going one-sided, try to fly and at last give 
it up and go into a sound sleep. When he awoke he 
would make a buzzing noise, stretch out a leg or two, 
then fly as well as ever. Uncle kept him six months ; 
I don’t know how he happened to die, but one morn- 
ing he was stiff — we were all so sorry.” 

Bolax listened, seeming quite interested, but when 
his aunt stopped speaking he began to whine : “But 
I want my beautiful horrible bug, I just do want 
him. Papa go upstairs and look for him, I had such 
trouble catching him in the woods. He has a red 
saddle under his black wings, and big horns, and 
stiff legs and red eyes. Please find him, Papa; I 
want to make a pet of him.” 

Here Mamma came up on the porch, and hearing 
about her boy going into the woods alone, was in- 
clined to scold, as she had strictly forbidden the chil- 
dren to venture into lonely places without some one 
[ 34 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


to watch over them. Bolax, then said, Adolph Layne 
had been with him. “Well,” said Mamma, “I’m glad 
to know that — no doubt, we will find your “beautiful 
horrible bug” in the morning. It cannot get away 
as the windows are all screened. He may have the 
room to himself and Aunt Lucy can sleep in the 
spare room. 

Amy spied a Lady bug on the climbing rosebush, 
she caught it and gave it to her little brother to 
comfort him for his loss. Papa told the children 
never to harm a Lady bug because they are very use- 
ful insects. “In fact,” said he, “I would like to have 
them on all my vines and bushes, for they always 
feed on the plant lice, which infest our choicest 
flowers. Indeed, I never could think of a Lady bug 
as a mere insect.” “Oh !” said Amy, “why can’t we 
call her Lady bird. She has strong little wings, and 
really seems like a tiny bird.” “Well,” continued 
Papa, “when I was very small, I often caught the 
dear little things, and firmly believed they under- 
stood when I said: “Lady bug fly away home.” 
When one flew from my hand, I followed, watched 
her going home and found where she laid her eggs. 
She always selects a rosebush or honeysuckle or a 
hop vine, because they are more likely than others 
to have plant lice upon them. Lady bug’s eggs are a 
bright yellow, small, flat and oval; when they are 
hatched out, the babies find their food all ready for 
them. 

At first, when just out of the egg, is the time the 
young ones eat millions of plant lice; after a few 
weeks good feeding, they get fat, and round, and 
casting off their first skin appear in their shining 
[ 35 ] 


BOLAX: 


beauty coats.’’ “Thank you, Papa, dear,” said Amy, 
I always did love ‘Lady birds,’ but now I shall love 
them more than ever.” “Papa, may I ask you, do 
you know anything about snakes? 

“Snakes!” cried Mamma and Aunt Lucy. “Yes, 
Mamma dear, the poor things everybody hates them, 
and no one says a good word about them. 

“Ow ! ow ! help ! for de Lord’s sake !” It was 
Hetty’s voice coming from the cellar. All rushed to 
the rescue, thinking the poor soul might have fallen. 
On opening the cellar door, Hetty was seen tumbling 
up the stairs, her eyes starting out of her head, 
scarcely able to articulate. “Oh, Miss Allen, de debble 
is arter me. He down dere, I done seed him plain. 
Oh! Oh! I’m done flustrated to death!” All tried 
to pacify the frightened creature, but it was no use. 
“I’se done gone dis time. My heart’s pumpin’ out of 
me! Mr. Allen went to see what could have given 
Hetty such a shock, when he too, gave a very undig- 
nified yell, as he caught sight of a big black snake. 
Bolax ran to him, calling out, “Why Papa, what is 
the matter, what made you screech?” “Don’t come 
down here, called Mr. Allen, Lucy bring the poker.” 
“Oh, what on earth is it, brother? A snake! I don’t 
wonder Hetty is scared to death. 

“Oh, Papa, dear,” called Bolax, “Don’t kill him, 
Tommy Hoden gave him to me to put in the cellar 
to catch mice, I thought Hetty would be glad, but 
she is such a scare cat.” 

Mrs. Allen told her sister to give Hetty some val- 
erniate of ammonia to quiet her nerves, and let her 
rest for the evening; we will attend to dinner; stay 
with her until she is soothed. 

[ 36 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“Bolax, come upstairs. What are we to do with 
you? Positively you must stop handling reptiles 
and insects ; you will be poisoned some day.” 

The little fellow listened to all his mother had to 
say, but seemed surprised that every one found fault 
when he expected to be praised. “Ma, dear,” said he, 
“I didn’t mean to frighten anyone. I’m not afraid 
of snakes, and Tommy Hoden is a good boy now, 
since you have him in Cathechism class, and he 
wanted that snake for himself, but he spared it just 
to please Hetty.” 

“Well, dear, I believe you would not willingly 
give pain to Hetty, but you are nearly six years old 
and it is time you should have some thought about 
you, say your prayers and go to bed. Bo’s prayer: 

Dear Jesus, Bless Hetty and don’t let her be such 
a scare cat. Holy Mother of Jesus, bless me and 
don’t let me be doing wrong things when I mean to 
do right things ; help all the poor and the sick, and 
all the people in the world and don’t let anyone be 
cruel to animals. Bless every one in the whole 
world, Amen. Oh, I forgot, bless Mamma and Papa 
and Sister and Auntie, but you know I always have 
them in my heart. Amen. 


[ 37 ] 


CHAPTER V. 


The Picnic. 

The feast of the Asumption. What a glorious day ! 
Clear and bright, more like June than August. 

Mrs. Allen and Amy went to early Mass. After 
breakfast Aunt Lucy proposed taking Bolax to high 
Mass, as the music was to be unusually fine. St. 
James’ choir from the city volunteered their services. 
Mr. Van Horn sent out a fine organ to replace the 
squeaky, little melodeon, for it was the first anniver- 
sary of the dedication of the little country church, 
and all wanted to have an especially fine service. 

Bo promised to be “better than good” while in 
Church. There was a very large congregation, the 
country people coming for miles around to hear the 
music and assist at the grand high Mass. 

When Aunt Lucy and her charge entered the 
Church every seat seemed to be taken. Mrs. Allen’s 
pew was filled with strangers, so dear old Madame 
Harte beckoned her to come into her pew. 

From the beginning of the service, Bo was in an 
ecstasy of delight, except for an occasional tapping 
of his feet when the music was very inspiriting, he 
sat motionless. 

Not to impose on the child’s patience too long, 
Madame Harte offered to take him out during the 
sermon. “Oh, dear Hartie, is it all over?” said Bo. 
“No pet, but the priest is going to give a sermon, and 
you would be so tired.” “No, I wouldn’t, what is a 
sermon?” said Bo. “Oh, a very long talk, dear; 
[ 38 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


come out with me/’ whispered Madame, “and I will 
bring you back when the music begins again.” 

“Will the priest tell stories?” asked Bo, when he 
got outside. “I like long talks when the talk is 
stories.” 

“Come dear, let us sit under that tree over there 
and I will tell you a true story.” “Oh, thank you, 
Hartie dear.” 

“Once long ago, our dear Lord died and — “Rose 
again and went up into Heaven,” said Bo all in one 
breath. “Mamma tells me that every day at my 
prayers.” 

“Well,” continued Mrs. Harte, “after Jesus went 
up to Heaven His holy Mother was very lonely, so 
she prayed and prayed to Jesus to take her up to 
Heaven, that she might be with Him forever. Well, 
one beauitful day, just like this, Jesus called a com- 
pany of angels and sent them down to the earth to 
bring His blessed Mother up to Him.” 

“Did the Angels march out of Heaven like sol- 
diers?” asked Bo. 

“Yes, dear; they put on their brightest robes, 
and beautiful clouds of crimson and gold sur- 
rounded them, and then they carried the holy 
Mother up, up, until they came to the golden throne 
where Jesus sat, ready to welcome her; He placed 
her beside Him and there she remains happy for- 
ever.” 

When the organ began the grand music of the 
Credo, Bo made a dash for the door, and could 
scarcely be persuaded to enter the Church quietly. 
After he was seated, he listened intently and was 
apparently very much interested in the Altar boys. 

[ 39 ] 


BOLAX : 


At length came the “Agnus Dei/’ which ends, as 
all have heard, with “Dona nobis pacem.” The 
music score called for a repetition of the word 
“Pacem,” somewhat in this manner, “Dona Pacem, 
Pacem, the basso calling out Pacem ! Pacem !” 

With startling suddenness, Bo exclaimed : “Why 
are they singing about a Possum?’ 

Aunt Lucy caught him by the hand and hurried 
him to the side door, which was fortunately near; 
those who were within hearing, with difficulty con- 
trolled their laughter. “Are you crying, Aunty?” 
said the funny youngster, as he saw the flushed face 
of his aunt. “No, Bo, dear; I came out because you 
spoke so loud.” “Oh, I forgot; please forgive me; 
let me go in again ; I’ll be so good, but Aunty dear, I 
didn’t know they ever let possums into Church.” 
Mass was not over, and as it was a holy day of obliga- 
tion, Aunt Lucy felt unwilling to leave until the 
last Gospel. On reflection, however, she thought it 
best not to give further distraction by returning to 
her seat. 

On her way home, she stopped to see a child, who 
belonged to the Catechism class, hoping to find him 
able to join the rest of the children, who were going 
to have their annual picnic. The little fellow had 
hurt his foot, but his mother said he was now able to 
walk nicely. 

After Mass, Miss Devine and Madame Harte drove 
over to Allen’s to see about the proposed outing. 
There they met the ladies Keating, all discussed Bo’s 
latest exploit and laughed heartily about the Pos- 
sum. 

“Our class has increased so largely this year, I 
[ 40 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


fear we cannot have room for all the children on my 
grounds/’ observed Mrs. Allen. “Suppose we make 
it a straw ride,” said Miss Keating. “We can give 
a substantial lunch, with ice cream and cake for 
dessert, and a bag of candy to take home.” “Oh, 
grand ! grand !” said Amy, clapping her hands, “and 
Ma, dear, I have two children I want to invite ; they 
don’t come to the class because they live so far away ; 
I mean little Johnny Burke, who is lame, and Dotty, 
the blind child. I love them because they are af- 
flicted.” 

“My darling, you shall invite the poor little ones, 
and I am glad to see you have such a compassionate 
heart.” “Suppose we hire Johnson’s big hay wagon,” 
said Miss Keating, “it will hold all the children and 
two grown folks to look after them.” 

“That will be just the thing,” said Miss Devine, 
“my contribution shall be the ice cream and cake,” 
“and mine,” said Madame Harte, “the candy.” “I 
will help with the substantiate and let the little 
things have more than enough for once in their 
lives,” this from Miss Keating, whose whole time 
seemed to be taken up with helping the poor. “We 
can drive to Silver Lake woods,” she proposed, “that 
is just six miles away and will not be too long a 
ride.” After making all arrangements, the ladies 
took leave of Mrs. Allen, promising to be on hand on 
Thursday, August 20th. 

The next day was Sunday. At Catechism class 
Mrs. Allen told the children of the proposed ride and 
picnic, which should take place on the next Thurs- 
day; all expressed their delight and you may be 
[41] 


BOLAX: 


sure, thought of nothing else during the intervening 
days. 

The next morning Bolax was playing with his 
dogs on the lawn when Tom Hoden made his appear- 
ance; he stood outside the gate, looking wistfully 
at Bo. Mrs. Allen called him in and gave him some 
breakfast. “Did your father tell you of my visit?” 
said the lady. Tom answered in his surly manner: 
“Yes, the old man said you was to the house, but I 
don’t want to go to Sunday School, the fellows 
would call me ‘rags,’ ‘and I ain’t got no shoes.” 
“That can be easily remedied,” said Mrs. Allen, 
“come here tomorrow and see what I will have for 
you.” 

The poor boy’s face brightened up, and making an 
awkward attempt to thank the lady, he ran out of 
the gate. 

When Tom presented himself next day, Pat was 
called upon to give him a bath and dress him in a 
good suit of clothes. “Here he is, ma’am,” said 
Pat, “and ye’d hardly believe it’s the same boy.” 

Tom held up his head and seemed quite happy ; so 
true it is, that be one ever so poor, a clean, respecta- 
ble appearance makes one feel at ease with himself 
and on better terms with his fellows. “Now Tom, I 
expect you to be here on next Thursday morning at 
nine o’clock.” Tom promised to come and thanked 
Mrs. Allen. 

The appointed day arrived. Long before the 
wagon came, the children flocked into the garden. 
Pat was on the alert lest his flower beds should 
suffer. 


[ 42 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Miss Keating and Mrs. Allen made all be seated, 
and to while away the time sang : 

“Wait for the wagon, wait for the wagon, 

Wait for the wagon and we’ll all take a ride. 

We are all good children; our teachers say with pride. 

So now to reward us, they give us all a ride.” 

The children clapped for this; then Aunt Lucy 
played on the piano which could be heard distinct- 
ly out on the lawn. 

Amy and Aunt Lucy sang : 

“Come where flowers are flinging 
Beauty o’er the meadows gay, 

Where glad birds are singing, 

Free from care the live long day. 

Come where skies are smiling, 

Where the merry fountains play, 

Come, all care beguiling, 

Keep with Nature Holiday. 

Then away to the woods, 

Where wild flowers bloom, 

Where the breezes are laden 
With sweetest perfume. 

With our feet light as fairies, 

And hearts full of glee, 

We will sing with the wild bird 
And roam with the bee, 

Oh, come away, away!” 

Mary Dowry called Amy’s attention to a charm- 
ing little girl about six years old, who smiled 
through the railing and looked wistfully at the chil- 

[ 43 ] 


BOLAX: 


dren. She was dressed in a pink frock, which set off 
her soft dark eyes. 

Amy went towards her and she said, “Good morn- 
ing, : ” so sweetly. “I believe she wants to come with 
us,” said Amy. “Oh, don’t let her, cried Nellie Day, 
she’s only a Dago.” 

“Well, I’ll give her some candy,” said Bolax, “I 
like nice Dagos,” and going to his mother, he told 
about the strange child. Mrs. Allen gave him a large 
bag of candy which he handed to the little girl. 

On receiving it she said, “gracias, gracias.” What 
is she saying “grassy ice for?” said Nellie Day, “per- 
haps she wants ice cream.” “No said Aunt Lucy she 
is saying ‘Thank you’ in Italian. What pretty man- 
ners she has. I think some of our American chil- 
dren might profit by her sweet ways.” 

“I’m sure she has a nice mother,” said Amy. “Let 
us take her with us.” “I would, willingly dear,” said 
Aunt Lucy, “but her people would think her lost, 
and we do not know where to send them word.” 

Great was the jubilation of the children, and not a 
little surprise among the ladies when the wagon ap- 
peared festooned with bunting, the driver carrying a 
flag, and the horses’ heads decked in like manner. It 
was so kind of Mr. Johnson to give the decorations. 
Miss Keating and Aunt Lucy seated themselves and 
the children in the straw ; then as the old song says : 

“Snap went the whip, ’round went the wheels, 

Were ever folks more glad.” 

Old and young joined in the fun and made the 
welkin ring with their mirth. Hetty and Pat put 
[ 44 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


the lunch baskets and ice cream into the dayton, 
and with Miss Devine, Madame Harte and Mrs. 
Allen in the large carry-all followed the procession 
to Silver Lake woods. 

The road strolled leisurely out of the village and 
then, abruptly left it behind, and curved about a hill- 
side. Silver Lake woods sat on a hill slope studded 
with pine trees ; at the foot of the hill could be seen 
a most beautiful piece of water glistening in the sun- 
shine. This was the lake. Life of the forest seemed 
to enter into the veins of the children and they ran 
and capered like wild deer. The horses were unhar- 
nessed so that they might rest. 

Pat and Mr. Johnson’s man put up swings and 
hammocks. The Misses Keating and Aunt Lucy 
set the children to play games; Hare and Hounds 
suited the boys and they raced to hearts’ content. 
The Lake was guarded by Miss Devine’s coachman, 
John, so that no venturesome lad would put himself 
in danger. The girls were easily made happy with 
quiet games, swings and hammocks. 

To the children, of course, the lunch was the prin- 
cipal feature, so the ladies spread an immense white 
cloth on the grass, around which all sat, and were 
served to as many chicken and liam sandwiches as 
they could eat. Tin cups of delicious milk and lots 
of sweet buns followed. Then came the ice cream 
and cake; by the time this was disposed of, it be- 
came evident the children could hold no more, so 
Madame Harte’s candy was reserved for the home- 
ward trip. 

The men were not forgotten, and were well sup- 
plied with a substantial dinner of cold roast beef, 
[ 45 ] 


BOLAX : 


pickles, bread and butter, a dozen of lemons and a 
pound of sugar to make lemonade. For, as Hetty, 
said, “dem dere fellows ain’t goin’ to care for soft 
vittles; dey wants sumpin’ dat will keep dem from 
getting’ hollow inside.” After the feast Pat and the 
other men gathered everything up, and packed all 
into the dayton, then Pat started for home. 

The ladies were rather fatigued after their exer- 
tions in amusing and waiting on the children, so 
they rested in the hammocks awhile. As for the 
little ones, nothing seemed to tire them, they tore 
around as fresh and lively as if the day were just 
beginning. At four o’clock Mrs. Allen rang a bell 
to summon all to prepare for home. When the 
wagon came all piled in, laughing and shouting in 
their glee. Amy was most attentive to her little 
proteges, waiting on them and attending to all their 
wants. Little Dotty kept saying : “Dear Miss Amy, 
I love you ; I thank you, and I’ll always pray for you 
for giving me such a happy, happy day.” 

Bolax took little lame Johnny under his care, 
when the children were being placed in the wagon, 
he called out to the driver, “be sure to seat Johnny 
on a soft bunch of hay, because his leg is not 
strong.” “Why did you say that?” said Nellie Day. 
“You ought to have said, because his is lame.” No, I 
just wouldn’t say that,” said Bo, “it might hurt 
Johnny’s heart; my Mamma says we must never let 
lame people know we see their lameness, and never 
look at crooked-backed children, because it makes 
then feel worse.” 

When the wagon was ready to start, the driver 
offered to see all the children safely to their homes ; 

[ 46 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


he said most of them lived near the quarry, and he 
would take the pike road, which passed within a 
few minutes’ walk of it. Johnny and little Dotty 
he promised to deliver into the hands of their 
mothers. 

The ladies Keating had ordered their carriage to 
call for them, and Miss Devine’s “carry-all” held the 
rest of the party, including Bo and Amy. 

This ended one happy day filled with love and 
kindness, and sweet charity towards God’s poor little 
ones. 

CATECHISM CLASS. 

On the Sunday after the picnic, the Catechism 
class met. All the pupils were eager to show their 
appreciation of the happy day their kind teachers 
had given them. 

The subject of instruction was the Ten Command- 
ments. Mrs. Allen made a few remarks in simple, 
plain words, showing the advantages of truth over 
falsehood ; dwelling particularly on the Seventh 
and Eighth Commandments, saying how happy one 
felt when his conscience told him, he was entirely 
free from the mean habit of lying and taking little 
things which were the property of others. 

After class was dimissed, Tom lingered on the 
piazza. Mrs. Allen went to him, and asked him if 
he wanted to speak to her. “Yes, ma’am;” said the 
boy, “I once took a wheelbarrow out of your yard; 
I am very sorry ; if you will trust me, I’ll work out 
the price of it on your place. I could help Pat if 
he’d let me. I’m strong; I’m twelve now.” Mrs. 
Allen was touched with the evident sincerity of the 
[ 47 ] 


BOLAX: 


boy, and thanked God that the good seed was already 
bearing fruit. Taking the boy’s hand, she told him 
our Lord would certainly forgive and bless him since 
he bravely acknowledged his fault. You may come 
tomorrow and I will give you work and keep you here 
until I can get you a permanent situation. Tom 
thanked his kind benefactress, promising to return 
the next day. 

As he was passing out the gate Bo hailed him, 
“You’re a good boy now Tom, so I can walk with 
you a little way ; I am going to give you a pair of my 
darling white rats. They’re such cute little things; 
they eat corn out of my mouth and run all over me.” 
“Thank you, Bo, but I’d better don’t take ’em, our 
place is full of black rats and they’d be sure to eat 
up the white ones.” As Tom was speaking, he 
threw a stone at a bird that was hopping along the 
path. “Stop that!” said Bo, “you’re getting bad 
again; that’s a robin. Robins are blessed birds, be- 
cause when our Lord was nailed on the Cross, a 
robin flew near and tried to pull the thorns out of 
His dear head, but robin was not strong, so he only 
could pull one thorn out, and the blood of poor 
Jesus got on the bird’s feathers so that is why 
robin’s breast is red.” “Is that really so, who told 
you?” “My dear Mamma told me, and she knows 
everything in the world, so it is true Tom, and if 
you want my Mamma to love you, you must be kind 
to animals and kind to birds especially to robins.” 

“Well, little fellow, I will try for your sake. You 
see I never knowed about nothing, so I done bad 
acts. Now since I go to Catechism class I’ll try to 
do good acts.” 


[ 48 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


After leaving Tom, Bolax loitered on the way 
home, amusing himself with his dogs ; when he went 
into the house, Hetty called him. “Where you done 
been such a long time, boy ?” “Oh, I was only down 
the hill,” replied Bo. “Well, here’s me and sister a 
working while vou’se playin’ ; just you come, let me 
wash you’ hands and den you kin help us make dese 
here cookies.” Amy was already busy rolling out 
dough and cutting cakes, so Bo was delighted to 
help. “Hetty, dear,” said he, “if I roll this dough 
into cannon balls will they bake nice?” “Cannon 
balls in my oven,” said Hetty, “suppose they go on to 
bust, what den?” “Oh, they won’t bust, Hetty dear.” 
So Hetty put the cannon balls to bake with the pan 
full of cookies and when they were done, she spread 
a nice white cloth on a little table near the window 
in the kitchen, bringing out the crabapple jelly, 
which the children always considered a treat. Then 
she put a bouquet in the center of the table and a 
pitcher of creamy milk. This with the cookies and 
some peaches made a delightful lunch. Amy under- 
stood why Hetty was particular to set the table so 
nicely and kept dancing ’round and talking non- 
sense. 

Mamma and Aunt Lucy had gone out for the day 
and she wanted to keep Bo from noticing their ab- 
sence. After enjoying the feast and feeding their 
pets, their friend, Adele, came and took them out in 
her pretty pony cart. It was five in the afternoon 
when the children returned. As soon as Bolax en- 
tered the house, he began his usual refrain: “Ma, 
dear.” As he received no answer, he suddenly re- 
membered he had not seen his mother all day. 
[ 49 ] 


BOLAX : 


“Why Hetty,” said he, “is Mamma not at home?” 
“No, honey,” said Hetty, “she’s been in town; she’ll 
be home soon now, and she g’wan to give you a nice 
present when I tell her what a good boy you done 
been. Come now eat you’ supper, so you’ Ma will 
find you in bed when she comes home.” 

Bo and Amy sat at the little table where they 
had had lunch. Hetty gave them a nice supper and 
allowed them each to have a doggie beside them, 
with a plate to eat from. 

After supper they went upstairs to prepare for 
bed. Buz and Roy followed. Amy took Bo into the 
Oratory to say night prayer. Bo began very piously 
“Our Father,” but just here Buz bit his foot. “Stop 
that, Buz, don’t you see I’m saying my prayers. 
“Our Father, who art in Heaven. Buz won’t behave.” 
Bo called out laughing, at the same time. “Hetty,” 
said Amy, “you had better come up here, Bo’s just 
giggling instead of saying his prayers. “I cornin’ 
up; you dogs git out of dis here Oritey; it ain’t no 
place for laughin’. Now you better don’t be a mock- 
in’ of de Lord, Bo. I tell you somethin’ might come 
arter you some night.” But Bo couldn’t stop, he 
was so full of merriment. “Well, I was saying my 
prayers with a humble and contrite heart when Roy 
came and thumped me in the back.” “Yes,” replied 
Amy, “and you just let him; you had better stop 
your nonsnse.” Hetty tried all her arts to get Bo to 
bed, at last she said: “Well, you always wasn’t a 
religion child, anyway. I remember one time when 
you was three years old, you’ mother was a dress- 
in’ you up in a lovely coat and hat with white plume, 
she was buttoning of the coat and you kept wigglin’, 
[ 50 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


then she told you to try to be a good boy, else you’ 
angel wouldn’t love you. You said: ‘Where is my 
angel.’ ‘Right behind you,’ says you’ Ma; then you 
pushed up against the wall and rubbed you back so 
hard. I was settin’ dere and tried to make you stop. 
Your Ma, she say: ‘What you doin’ you bad boy,’ 
and you answer ‘Squashing the angel !’ You’ Ma 
couldn’t help smilin’ and I jest fall down on de floor 
with laughin,’ we was so taken by surprise.’ 

“Well, Hetty,” said Amy, “that’s the reason Bolax 
is bad, because people laugh at him.” “Oh, I 
wouldn’t say that now, said Bo, I’m near six, and I 
do love my angel; the laughing is all gone now; I 
can say my prayers.” So Bo said his prayers re- 
spectfully and went to bed. 

A little after midnight, he ran into his mother’s 
room. “Oh, Mamma, dear, did you hear it? Oh, it 
is awful, and I did say my prayers.” 

Out in the entry Hetty was heard saying: “For 
de Lord sake ! Oh, Miss Allen, dere it is again.” 

Mrs. Allen and the whole household heard a most 
unearthly shriek, but immediately remembered it 
was the new fire alarm. After quieting the little boy 
and making Hetty understand what it was, Mrs. 
Allen looked out of the window, and saw that a 
large house on the top of a high hill was ablaze ; as it 
was only a frame building it was soon destroyed, 
for the firemen could not reach it. 

After the disturbance was over and all were going 
back to bed, Bo put his arm around his mother’s 
neck, and said : “I guess I had better stay with you 
Mamma, dear ; you might get afraid again.” 


[ 51 ] 


CHAPTER VI. 


A Talk About Our Boys. 

Mrs. Carpenter, who was President of the Chris- 
tian Mothers’ Society, delivered a most entertaining 
lecture on “Our Boys.” A subject in which every 
mother is always deeply interested. 

Our Boys.. 

It is an acknowledged fact that many a boy who 
has had the advantage of good training at home and 
at school, fails to avail himself of his opportunities 
and grows up careless in dress and language, and, 
while not absolutely vicious yet, looking leniently 
upon much that his parents and friends regard as 
reprehensible. 

Among the various causes that lead to such physi- 
cal, mental and moral laxity, none is more potent 
than companionship with dirty, idle or immoral 
boys. Many a lad spends hours with comrades whom 
he despises, at first, then excuses, and finally asso- 
ciates with on terms of close intimacy. 

We all desire that our sons should keep good com- 
pany, and we cannot and should not deprive them of 
outdoor companionship with boys of their own age. 
What we most desire is that they themselves should 
choose their comrades apnong honest, studious, manly 
boys, and avoid the society of the mean, idle and 
vicious; yet at the same time they should treat all 
[ 52 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


with the courtesy due from one human being to an- 
other. 

We can scarcly understand the character of our 
boy’s companions by his own description of them; 
since like the rest of humanity our boys regard their 
favorites with eyes that see only their good quali- 
ties, forgetting the coarse language, the vulgar jest, 
the cruel trick, the truant playing: “He is such a 
jolly fellow, plays such a good game.” 

Although we may notice occasionally that our boy 
is coarse in speech or manifests an unusual spirit of 
rebellion at school regulations still we do not often 
associate these effects with “such a good fellow al- 
ways ready for fun.” But if we occasionally saw 
this “good fellow” then indeed the cause would not 
be far to seek. Our boy himself would feel ashamed 
of his acquaintance, if he saw him in the home 
circle; he would suddenly discover that his friend 
was not ashamed that his hands were dirty, that he 
“talked to mother” with his hat on. 

These boys of ours are apt to be very chivalrous 
about “mother,” and then they learn not to care 
about companions of whom they are ashamed. 

I once heard a mother say to her son, “Harry, I 
wonder at you to be seen on the street with that 
Murray boy. Why he is dressed like a beggar.” 

Now, I too, had seen Harry and the “Murray boy,” 
and while the boy’s clothes were old, they were whole 
and clean too, and I knew him to be an upright 
manly lad, more so indeed than Harry was ever 
likely to be with such training. 

Provided a boy is truthful, clean and careful in 
his language we should not let the pecuniary cir- 
[ 53 ] 


BOLAX: 


cumstances of his family enter into consideration; 
for our desire is to build up a noble manhood in our 
boys, and how despicable is that man who esteems 
his friends according to the length of their purses. 
There is only one way of judging our boy’s com- 
panions, and that is by knowing them ourselves. 
This we can do by encouraging him to invite his 
friends to visit him not always formally, but now 
and then, as it may happen. We can pleasantly wel- 
come them, but let us be careful not to entertain them 
too much, for there is *nothing a boy hates more 
than to have a “fuss” made over him. 

An occasional taffy pulling is not an expensive 
luxury and a little hot water removes all traces from 
the kitchen, to which it should be limited. Some 
time when it is convenient, let us tell our boy to in- 
vite some of his friends to spend the evening, and use 
the best china and the preserves and cake he likes 
the best. 

Do not say, “It is only those boys.” Let him feel 
that his guests are well treated, and he will be the 
more anxious to have friends worthy of the treat- 
ment they receive. 

I think that the clownish behavior of boys arises 
from the only-a-boy treatment they experience; feel- 
ing slighted they instinctively resent it, by being as 
disagreeable as possible. 

Nor is it necessary that one’s house should be 
turned into a barn for boys to carouse in. On the 
contrary, our boy should always tell mother when 
he wishes to invite a friend, or, if he knows that his 
friends are coming; not as a rigid rule, but as a 
courtesy due a lady in her own house; no matter 
[ 54 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


whether the home consists of one room or twenty, 
the mother is always the hostess, and she can train 
her son into a well-bred man, or allow him, even 
though well educated to grow up a boor. 

Many men owe their success in life to their observ- 
ance of the minor courtesies in which they were 
trained by a good mother. These habits and that of 
correct speech should be insisted upon by every re- 
fined mother. There is another, and to me the most 
important point in the education of our boys, I refer 
to their religious training. Merely sending them to a 
short service on Sunday, will never impress boys 
with the respect they should have for God, and if 
they are not taught love and reverence for their 
Heavenly Father, they will disregard the authority 
of their parents and in after life, defy the laws of 
the land. 

Above all things see to your boy’s religious train- 
ing, see that he does not associate with people who 
make flippant remarks about sacred things. Give a 
little time in the evening to conversations with your 
children. As I speak, one little mother comes to my 
mind, she always made it a duty to sit with her boys 
and talk over the incidents of the day, she inquired 
what new ideas they had received, etc. ; they laughed 
and chatted together, “Ma dear” had their entire 
confidence. This mother warned her sons against 
vice, showing them the horrid pitfalls of sin. 

Judicious advice coming from a loving mother 
will keep boys from sins, the memory of which even 
when repented of, would haunt them forever. 

After Mrs. Carpenter’s address she introduced 
[ 55 ] 


BOLAX : 


Mrs. Blondell, who gave her thoughts on the duties 
of mothers towards their children. 

We often hear severe criticisms on the manners of 
young people of the present day and contrast them 
unfavorably with the manners of a generation ago. 
No doubt much of this criticism is warranted. The 
great mass of young people of today are lacking in 
deference, courtesy and respect. But the fathers and 
mothers who complain of these faults rarely ques- 
tion themselves if they are not wholly or in part to 
blame for the bad manners of their offspring. 

I have known parents who sit at table or in the 
home circle, and in the presence of their children 
freely criticise or comment on the conduct of their 
neighbors or friends, permitting their children to 
tell all they have seen or heard in a neighbor’s house. 

Such parents must not be disappointed if those 
children grow up with the habit of gossiping and 
commenting just as freely on themselves. Now there 
is no one thing more destructive of good manners 
than the gossiping and tale bearing habit. 

If urbanity were persistently taught and practiced 
in the home there would not be so much to learn, 
and especially to unlearn with regard to intercourse 
with the world at large. 

People would not then have two manners, one to 
use in public and one in private. There would be 
less self-consciousness and less affectation, for these 
arise from trying to do a thing of which we are un- 
certain, to assume a manner which we have imper- 
fectly acquired. 

Sometimes one meets with children who seem to 
lack the idea of truth, then it must be developed, and 
[ 56 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


great exactness is demanded of the mother in every 
statement. 

In describing a garden with five trees, say five , 
not five or six or several. Go to extremes in accu- 
racy of detail, for the sake of giving the child the 
habit of telling only the exact truth. 

If a promise has been made to such a child there 
is more than ordinary necessity for keeping it to the 
letter. 

Some time ago I heard of a gentleman who 
promised his little son that he should be present at 
the building of a stone wall, while the boy was absent 
the wall was built. Coming home he was greatly dis- 
appointed. “Papa you promised I should see it.” 
“So I did my child.” And the father ordered the 
wall to be torn down and rebuilt. Being expostu- 
lated with regarding the expense and time which he 
could ill afford, he replied: “I had rather spend 
many times the amount than have my son feel that 
I would be knowingly false to my word, or that it 
mattered little if a promise was broken. 

Though truth and faithfulness might have been 
taught and the wall remained, because all accidents 
of life are not under our control, no one can doubt 
the impression made upon that boy’s mind. 

A mother speaking to me about two of her chil- 
dren said that they tell her most wonderful stories 
of school life and play time. She hears them quietly 
and says : “That is very interesting ; now, how much 
did you see and hear, and how much do you think 
you saw and heard.” They stop, think, and sift out 
the actual from the imaginative, sometimes correcting 
each other. One day the little boy said: “I really 
[ 57 ] 


BOLAX : 


thought, Mamma, it was all so, but I guess only this 
part was.” 

Much license is commonly allowed in order to tell 
a “good story,” and many a child thus unconsciously 
gains a light conception of the value of truth, or they 
think their elders are privileged to use prevarica- 
tions. I will give an illustration of this. 

One day a group of ladies seated on the porch of 
a hotel were entertaining each , other, among them 
was one notorious for her habit of exaggeration. We 
were all listening to one of this lady’s “good stories” 
when her eldest little girl, a child of seven, came to- 
wards us, leading her small sister of four. Going up 
to her mother the child said in a most serious tone 
of voice: “Mamma, Elsie told a lie? You said it 
was naughty for little girls to tell lies; they must 
wait until they are big ladies; rnusn’t they?” 

The laugh that followed was joined in by the 
mother, who seemed quite unconscious of the reproof 
contained in the innocent speech of her little child. 

Another point to which I would call your atten- 
tion is showing partiality; sometimes severely re- 
proving a fault in one child, which you would pass 
over in a favorite. Children feel this keenly while 
childhood lasts, and sometimes resent it when they 
grow up. I have here a little piece which I am sure 
will appeal to you. 

The lady who wrote it evidently understands child- 
nature. 

SOLILOQUY BY MISS ETHEL M. KELLY. 

Now I lay me down to sleep — 

Don’t want to sleep ; I want to think, 

[ 58 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


I didn’t mean to spill that ink ; 

I only meant to softly creep 
Under the desk and be a bear — 

’Taint ‘bout the spanking that I care. 

‘F she’d only let me ’splain an’ tell 
Just how it was an accident, 

An’ that I never truly meant 
An’ never saw it till it fell. 

I feel a whole lot worse nor her ; 

I’m sorry; an’ I said I were. 

I s’pose if I’d just cried a lot, 

An’ choked all up like sister does, 

An’ acted sadder than I wuz, 

An’ sobbed about the “naughty spot,” 

She’d said, “He shan’t be whipped, he shan’t, 

An kissed me — but, somehow I can’t. 

But I don’t think it’s fair a bit 
That when she talks an’ talks at you, 

An’ you wait patiently till she’s through, 

An’ start to tell your side of it, 

She says, “Now that’ll do my son 
I’ve heard enough, ‘fore you’ve begun. 

If I should die before I wake — 

Maybe I ain’t got any soul ; 

Maybe there’s only just a hole 

Where’t ought to be — there’s such an ache 
Down there somewhere! She seemed to think 
That I just loved to spill that ink. 

,? 

Dear Christian mothers, permit me, a very, very 
old member of your society, to offer this advice. Be 
on the alert always to give good example to your chil- 
dren. Remember you are teaching them spiritual 
truths or errors from the day of their birth. You 

[ 59 ] 


BOLAX : 


cannot help it, if you would. Your daily conduct 
tells its own story influencing for or against your be* 
liefs. 

If you are a consistent Christian, your life before 
your child is teaching him to believe* in the Christ 
whose example you follow. If you are not practic- 
ing what you profess no amount of teaching will 
bring your children to respect your beliefs. 

Let us take for our model dear Mater Admirabilis, 
and as near as possible imitate that divine Mother, 
making for ourselves a charmed existence by blot- 
ting out as far as possible the disagreeables of life; 
they will come, but they will only grow larger when 
we remember them, and constant thought of acts of 
meanness makes us more familiar with them. Oblit- 
erate every unworthy thought from your heart and 
soul, then your children will retain only sweet 
memories of their mother. 


[ 60 ] 


CHAPTER VII. 

The Fight. 

“What’s all the noise about down there?” asked 
Aunt Lucy. 

“Dem youngsters is fighten over de puppies, better 
come down here, Miss Lucy.” 

Bo was screaming, Amy scolding, and Jess bark- 
ing and whining. Aunt Lucy hurried down stairs to 
see what could cause such a commotion. 

When she made her appearance at the head of the 
cellar stairs Amy was pulling at her brother, and 
Bo, doubled up, was holding one of the puppies in a 
tight embrace at the risk of ending its existence. 

“Stop, immediately !” commanded their aunt. 
“Children, I am ashamed of you.” 

“Well, that bad boy is tormenting the poor dog.” 

“Put the puppy down, Bo.” 

“Here, Aunty, you stoop down with it, Jess will 
jump in my face if I go near her nest. I only 
wanted to love the little thing, and Jess would not 
have made such a fuss if Amy didn’t put her up 
to it.” 

“I have a good mind to deprive you both of your 
ride this afternoon as a punishment for your silly 
conduct. Go upstairs and let me hear no more 
quarreling.” 

After Aunt Lucy and Amy had gone, Bo went into 
the kitchen to get Hetty’s sympathy ; she was always 
willing to listen to her boy, although she was pro- 
voked sometimes by his mischievous tricks. 

“Hetty, dear, don’t you think Amy is an anti- 
quated monkey ?” 


[ 61 ] 


BOLAX: 


“Oh, honey, don’t call sister names.” 

“Yes, I will; ‘Monkey’ is too good for her, I wish 
I knew of the horriblest animal ever was, I’d call 
Amy after it.” 

“Now be a good boy, don’t tight no more, and — ” 

“Yes, I will fight ; sister is so wicked ; she’s just a 
Mannypochia cobra.” 

“Oh, law ! Massa Bo, that’s a awful name. What 
kind of a animal is it?” 

“Well, it’s something like a big snake, only fifty 
times bigger, and it hisses and cracks your bones 
and — 

“What you gwan do when you go to confession; 
you got to tell the names you call, and you ain’t 
gwan to ’member dat big word.” 

“Oh, I’ll remember; I’ll just say ‘Father, my sister 
was so dreadful, she most broke my bones, so I called 
her the name of a snake that breaks bones.’ ” 

Hetty laughed, and asked Bo if he was “most 
ready for his first confessin,” telling him he “better 
don’t have too many bad things to tell on other peo- 
ple ; Father gwan to tell you : ‘Say child you come 
to tell you’ own sins ;I don’t want to hear what you’ 
sister done did.’ ” 

“But,” insisted Bo, “the priest will listen when I 
tell him how Amy fights over the puppies.” 

“Better don’t, ’cause if you do, Father gwan give 
you two penances, one for your sins, and another 
for Amy’s sins.” 

Bolax’s First Confession. 

Bolax having passed his ninth birthday, his 
mother thought it time he should make his first con- 
[ 62 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


fession. Although well instructed and prepared for 
the great event, he had a dread of going to confes- 
sion. 

It was September 8th, the Nativity of the Blessed 
Virgin; Mrs. Allen called her boy and told him she 
had decided on taking him to see a Jesuit priest. 
Bolax was delighted with the trip to town, but when 
he got near the church he wanted to run away. 

“Oh Mamma, dear,” cried he, “I’ll go some other 
time.” 

Notwithstanding his resistance, his mother com- 
pelled him to enter the church. As soon as the child 
caught sight of the imposing interior, with its 
Altars, statues and pictures, he seemed suddenly 
overcome with awe, his whole manner changed, and 
dropping on his knees, he whispered : 

“Oh, Mamma, this is a very holy place ! Oh, I can 
feel God right near me !” 

One of the Fathers came down the aisle and en- 
tered the confessional; Bolax followed him without 
any compulsion, and seemed thoroughly impressed 
with the sanctity of the act he was about to perform. 

There happened to be no other penitents, so the 
good Father came out of the box and spoke to the 
boy. 

“So this is your first confession,” said he. “Well, 
my child, God bless you, and keep your soul ever as 
pure as it is today.” 

Then turning to the mother, he spoke about the 
boy, saying: 

“I am greatly interested in my little penitent, and 
I want him to write to me every two weeks, giving 
me a report of his conduct. 

[ 63 ] 


BOLAX: 


Bolax promised to write. 

After thanking the priest for his kind interest, 
and helping her boy with his Thanksgiving, Mrs. 
Allen left the church. Bolax skipped down the 
steps, and I fear the good people who were at their 
devotions, must have been very much startled at the 
loud “Cock-a-doodel-do” given by Bo, as he reached 
the pavement. 

“For goodness sake stop!” cried his mother. 
“Can’t you behave?” 

“No, Mamma; I’m too happy. I feel as if I could 
fly. Confession isn’t a bit hard ; I’d like to go every 
day.” 

Bolax’s First Letter. 

Dear Rev. Father: 

Ever since I went to confession, everybody says 
I’m worse. 

I let my dog out of the cellar, and he most 
chewed up my sister’s dog. Roy, is my dog’s name; 
Trix, is my sister’s dog. Roy caught on to Trix, and 
such howling and yelping never was heard. Sister 
was so afraid, she hid inside the wardrobe, and every 
minute she would put out her head and yell : 

“Oh, my poor Trix !” 

Mamma and the cook tried to separate the dogs. 
Mamma caught hold of Roy’s tail, and Hetty caught 
on to Trix’s tail, and both pulled, but still the dogs 
wouldn’t stop fighting. Then I got a stick to whack 
them, and I broke Mamma’s glasses by accident. 

At last Hetty threw a bucket of water on them; 
that stopped the fight. Hetty says she’s ‘done flus- 
[ 64 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


tered to death.’ Sister says I’m the awfulest boy in 
the world. 

I haven’t done anything bad today, yet. 

Your little friend, 

Bolax. 


The Rev. Father’s Answer. 

St. Francis Xavier College. 

Dear Little Friend : 

Even though everyone should say that you have 
been “worse” than you had been before making your 
confession, I know that our Lord will excuse you be- 
cause you acknowledge your faults. 

You see, all expected you would be better after 
confession, and they are much disappointed, because 
they have not yet seen any improvement. 

What a scrape you got into, by letting your dog 
out of the cellar, and how cruel it was to have poor 
Trix “chewed up.” You were shocked, I am sure, 
when you found you had hit your mother. Now, how 
did all this come about? Just because you did not 
ask permission to let your dog out of the cellar. If 
you had acted under obedience, you would have 
avoided all the trouble. Now, this is the lesson to 
take from your fault. 

Do not act without permission, and always obey 
promptly and cheerfully, then you will be happy; 
your parents will be happy and Our Dear Lord will 
bless you. 

Hoping to see you soon, my dear little boy, I am 
your friend in Christ, 

Aloysius Rocofort, S. J. 

[ 65 ] 


BOLAX: 


Second Letter. 


Dear Rev. Father: 

Since my third confession, everyone says I am 
showing improvement. Papa says it is your letters 
that make me good. Mamma says it is the grace of 
God given through confession. 

Hetty says, “I do believe dat boy done got re- 
ligion for sure.” 

Everybody believes in my conversion, excepting Sis- 
ter Amy ; she says the badness couldn’t go so sudden ; 
it is still there. Trix’s ear is sore yet ; that is the rea- 
son she is cross. 

Indeed, Father, I feel good. I obey better; I have 
only to be called three times in the morning, and I 
don’t forget things when I am sent on errands, and 
I even study without growling. 

Dear Father, would you like a pair of white rats ? 
They are lovely pets and run all over me; they eat 
corn off the top of my head and nibble my ears. If 
you want them, I will put them in a wire cage and 
carry them into town the next time I go to see you. 

Your loving little friend, 

Bolax Allen. 


St. Francis Xavier College. 
My Dear Little Friend: 

How rejoiced I am to learn by your last report 
that you are giving satisfaction to Mamma and 
Papa, and learning to obey; the greatest of all vir- 
tues “obedience,” preserves us from falling into 
other sins. 


[ 66 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Sister will come round soon, just let her see you 
are in earnest, and surprise her by persevering in 
your good resolutions. 

I thank you for the kind offer to give me your 
pets, but I fear the good brother who has charge of 
my room would object to rats — white or black — so I 
must decline your present with many thanks, dear 
child. 

Come to see me next Wednesday, I will be home 
from 2 to 6 P. M. 

God bless you, 

Aloysius Rocofort, S. J. 


St Francis Xavier College. 

Dear Little Friend: 

What a pity I was not at home when you called. 
I wished to see you to find out how you had been 
doing since I last met you. I hope you went to con- 
fession to one of the other priests that day. 

After Holy Communion, which you are too young 
to receive as yet, there is no better means to aid 
you in doing right than a complete and humble dec- 
laration of all that you have done amiss. 

It is a good thing to say your prayers in the morn- 
ing, even though you have to be reminded by your 
mother. I wish you had interest enough yourself to 
say them without being reminded. 

Always your friend, 

A. Rocofort, S. J. 


[ 67 ] 


BOLAX: 


A Very Great Loss. 

“Aunt Lucy,” said Bolax one day. “I had a very 
important paper, and I cannot find it. I took such 
pains to write it because it was to go to Father 
Rocofort. Did you see it? You would know it was 
important because it was written without blots.” 

“Indeed, child, I did not see it, ask Hetty; she 
cleaned your room this morning.” 

“Hetty, Hetty,” called Bo, “did you see a long 
narrow strip of paper about a yard long, with writ- 
ing on it?” 

“Yes, I done see a paper like dat; it was on the 
floor of you’ room when I go clean it, and the puppy 
was a chewing of it. I done took it and put it under 
a book on your desk.” 

“Oh Hetty, why, oh, why did you let puppy chew 
up my paper? It had my sins on it.” 

“For de Lawd sake. Bolax ! you’ sins ! Den I guess 
de poor little dog done pizened by dis time. I ain’t 
seed him since he et up dem sins, three hours ago. I 
guess I’ll find him lying dead somewheres.” 

“Hetty, you stop making fun of me; I’m in real 
earnest. Sins are things people only tell to the 
priest, or to their mothers, and I don’t want mine to 
be blowing round for every one to see them.” 

After a great search, the paper was found and Bo 
inclosed it in a letter ready to send Father Roco- 
fort. When his mother read the contents, she ex- 
plained that he could not make a confession in that 
manner. 

“Confession must be made on bended knees.” 

“Well, then Ma, dear, I can’t go to town this week, 

[ 68 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


as I have such a cold. I’m so sorry; Father will 
think I’m getting bad again.” 


St. Francis Xavier College. 

Dear Little Friend: 

Your letter of last week has not come to hand, so 
without waiting for it, I feel I ought to tell you the 
second thought that came to my mind when I read 
the letter which did reach me. 

You may remember you said these words : “I did 
not disobey this week, because I was sick.” 

Now my thought was just this: From what this 
boy says it would appear that if he were in good 
health, he would have disobeyed. As disobedience 
is a sin; a great evil because displeasing to God. 
What a blessing it is to be sick, if one is thereby pre- 
vented from doing anything that is offensive to God. 

You are perhaps too young to know that all things 
that come from God are good in themselves, since 
God, who sends them, is good. 

Did you ever think that sickness, poverty, hunger, 
cold, sorrow and suffering could be good? Perhaps 
not. It is hard for a small boy to see that what he 
does not like, can be good. But if God likes a thing, 
it must be good, and if God dislikes a thing, it must 
be bad. 

Please try to understand all this, and you will be- 
come a good boy and a good man. 

Your friend in Christ, 

Aloysius Rocofort, S. J. 

[ 69 ] 


BOLAX: 


September 1st. 

Dear Rev. Father: 

I wish you would be so kind as to pray I may be 
sent to a Catholic school, there is none in our town 
for boys, but maybe I could get to St. Thomas’ Col- 
lege, if they would only take me. 

Mamma and Papa thank you so much for writing 
to me. Indeed it is kind, and it must take up your 
time. I shall always keep your letters ; I love them. 

Papa says it is wonderful that the President of a 
college would bother writing to a little boy. 

Your loving little friend, 

B. Allen. 


St. Francis Xavier College. 
My Dear Little Friend : 

Having been very busy during the week, I have not 
been able to make an earlier reply to your little 
biography of the week. One or two thoughts that 
came to my mind as I read your words is, I think, 
worth putting on paper. 

You seemed to think it remarkable that a man of 
my age, education and busy life should trouble him- 
self about a little boy. Now I thought you a strange 
little boy for that, and for this reason. You are a 
Christian, believing and knowing that Christ died 
for you; gave His heart’s blood for your eternal 
happiness. 

Knowing this as I do, and meditating on the life 
and work of Christ, and striving so hard to imitate 
him ; do you think it strange that I should take an 
interest in you, when you allow me? It would be 
[70] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


indeed strange if I did not wish to see you grow up a 
good docile, obedient, kind and high-principled boy, 
and a brave, true, upright, high-souled man, and do 
all in my power, as far as you will allow to bring 
about such a result. 

God wants that, your parents hope it; you your- 
self would like it, if you could get it by wishing, or if 
it did not cost you any trouble. But it does cost 
trouble, though it is worth a thousand troubles. 

Your friend in Christ, 

Aloysius Rocofort, S. J. 

P. S. — I will indeed pray that you may be ad- 
mitted into St. Thomas’, although in your case, with 
such a mother to guide you, the public school might 
be tolerated. 


Bolax Deserves A Whipping. 

“Another unsatisfactory report,” exclaimed Papa 
Allen, as he held an open letter in his hand. “This is 
the fourth since the opening of school in September, 
and now it is only the first week of October. Spell- 
ing, 30; Arithmetic, 20. Professor too, sends com- 
plaints of your music lesson ; then you have neglected 
your rabbits. 

At this Bo jumped up and ran out to the rabbit- 
hutch. Yelling with all his might for Hetty : “Oh, 
my rabbits; my rabbits are gone.” 

“When did you feed them last,” asked his father, 
who was looking out of a window. Bo thought a 
moment, then remembered he had not seen them for 
several days. 


[ 71 ] 


BOLAX : 


“But where have they gone, Hetty dear?” 

“Done turned into air; what you spect dey gwan 
do when dey has nothing to eat but air.” 

Then Hetty laughed, and Bo went back to the din- 
ing room. 

“Excuse me for leaving you, Papa, I am so wor- 
ried. Indeed, indeed, I didn’t mean to forget my 
pets.” 

“My son, we allow you to have pets to teach you 
the lesson of responsibility, which means to keep in 
mind any duty you have to perform. You do not 
mean to be cruel, but you are. I have saved many of 
your pets from hunger and thirst; now I shall do so 
no longer, neither shall the servants. Your rabbits 
have been given to Flossy Day, who will always at- 
tend to them, because she is a thoughtful, kind little 
girl. 

“On all points you are at fault — lessons, music 
and pets; all alike forgotten, if there is no improve- 
ment, you will be punished for your delinquencies.” 

Unfortunately at the end of the next week, the re- 
port was worse than ever, and Papa was shocked and 
expressed himself in very severe language. Bolax 
showed an unusual spirit of insubordination and 
temper on being reproved, and his father whipped 
him. The boy was heart-broken ; it was the first time 
a stroke had been laid upon him in his life. His 
mother did not approve of corporal punishment, but, 
of course, would not interfere in what her husband 
thought to be his duty. 

Poor Bo felt degraded and went to hide. His 
mother knocked at his bedroom door, but he would 
not open it. 


[ 72 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“No one loves me any more!” sobbed the poor 
child. If Aunt Lucy had been home I would not 
have been whipped. 

Amy went into the room and putting her arms 
around her brother’s neck, told him she would give 
him her pony “Ben Bolt,” for his very own. “Oh, 
Sister, I thank you, but nothing can take the pain 
out of my heart.” 

“I know darling, but Papa is just as pained as 
you. He said just now, he had rather cut off his 
hand than hurt you, but you know you would not 
listen to anything and kept going wild. I tell you 
what I will do the next time you deserve a whipping ; 
I will stand and take it for you. I wouldn’t let you, 
dear, sweet Sister; no indeed, but I’ll never deserve 
one again.” 

“Good night and here’s Ma dear, to kiss you.” 

In the morning Hetty went up to Bo’s room to call 
him for breakfast; his mother had let him sleep late 
because she was attending to her husband, who had 
to take an early train for New York. 

“Come down here honey,” Hetty called again, 
“Come see the nice fish I’se got for you.” Bo went 
into the dining room and begged the kind creature to 
sit with him. “You’re my best friend, Hetty, dear.” 
“Indeed, I’se your friend. Eat up de fish ; it’s good, 
and don’t bother lookin’ at it.” 

“Oh, I’m just dissecting it.” “What’s dat?” “See- 
ing what’s inside of it. Hetty, dear, do you know 
fishes have spinal cords?” “Cords! land sakes! 
where dey done keep dem?” 

“Oh, up their backs, of course. Here, see this bone, 
I break it and here is a string that makes the fish 
[ 73 ] 


BOLAX: 


move. “Ok, Massa Bo, where you done learn all 
dis?” 

I heard the A class saying their physiology, and I 
asked Mamma, and she said we had just such a cord 
in our backbone. Here Mamma came into the room. 
‘Law bless us, Miss Allen dat chile ought never be 
whipped for learning He knows lots more now than 
some men.” 

Mrs. Allen sat down and explained to the chil- 
dren the different parts of the fish. 

This led to an interesting talk. Amy asked if shell- 
fish were stupid, because people often say: “As 
dumb as a clam.” 

“Not all dear, there is the beautiful Nautlius; the 
little mariner and really our first navigator.” 

Then the mother told of the sea nettle, the razor- 
fish, the cuttlefish, that throws a black fluid out of its 
body, which darkens the water, and when pursued 
by an enemy escapes by this means. It is a very use- 
ful fish; long ago the Romans used that black fluid 
for ink. 

Bo was so interested, he forgot his trouble, and no 
one noticed it was past school time. 

“I’se just glad,” said Hetty; “you children come 
play dat funny song about de Hoo Doo man, and say 
dat piece what tells what de school bell talks when it 
rings.” 

Really my son, I am sorry you missed school this 
morning. It will put another bad point on your 
next report. “Ma, dear,” I’m tired of that old school ; 
it’s a girls’ school, anyhow. I’m the only Catholic 
there, and every now and then some one says some- 
thing ugly about my religion. Of course, I have to 
[ 74 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


fight boys that do it, but I must bear it when girls 
tell me I adore idols. If you send me to St. Thomas’ 
I’ll study hard. 

WHAT THE SCHOOL BELL SAYS. 

It is wonderful what unlike things 
The school bell says to boys when it rings. 

For instance the sluggard who drags along 
On his way to school, hears this sort of song : 

Oh, suz hum ! 

Why did I come? 

Study ’till four — 

Books are a bore ! 

Oh, how I wish 
I could run off and fish! 

See! there’s the broook 
Here’s line and hook. 

Hurry up — eh? 

What’s that you say? 

Oh — hum — ho ! 

Suppose I must go, 

Study ’till four, 

Books are a bore. 

Then the boy who loves to be faithful and true, 

Who does what his parents think best he should do, 
Comes bravely along with satchel and book, 

The wind in his whistle, the sun in his look. 

And these are the thoughts that well up like a song, 

As he hears the old bell with its faithful ding dong : 

Cling, clang, cling— 

I’m so glad I could sing ! 

Heaven so blue, 

Duty to do ! 

Birds in the air, 

Everything fair, 

Even a boy 

[ 75 ] 


BOLAX: 


Finds study a joy ! 

When my work is done 
I’m ready for fun, 

Keener my play 
For tasks of the day, 

Cling clang, cling. 

I* so glad I can sing. 

These are the songs which the two boys heard, 

When the school bell was singing word for word. 

Which do you think was the truer song? 

Which do you hear as you’re trudging along? 

Don’t be a laggard — far better I say ! 

To work while you work, and play when you play. 

— By J. Bucham. 

“Why so serious Amy,” said her mother; “you 
look as if you were deeply reflecting.” 

I have just been thinking of those “wonders of the 
sea” you tell about. 

“Ma, dear, how much you do know; you can tell 
something of every bird and beast and insect. 1 
wonder if I ever shall know as much?” 

“My child, you know much more of this delightful 
kind of study than I did at your age. Until you 
were four years old, my information on such sub- 
jects was very limited.” 

“And why did you study, mother, dear?” 

“I had a strong incentive; I studied because I 
loved you.” 

Bolax pressed close to his mother’s side. “Oh, Ma, 
dear ! I will study, too, because I love you.” 

When Mr. Allen returned in the evening, Bo went 
to the gate to meet him, and threw his arms around 
his father’s neck, asking to be forgiven and promis- 
[ 76 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


ing to be a good boy in the future. Mr. Allen 
clasped the dear child to his heart wondering if he 
had made a mistake in his manner of chastising a 
boy with such a loving disposition. 

That night the good mother told of Bo’s desire to 
change schools. 

That’s just what I intended proposing; I had a 
conversation with old Mathews, who has brought up 
seven sons. He thinks from what I told him of our 
son, a change would be just what he requires at 
present. 

A few days after this, Mrs. Allen took Bo up to the 
College and begged the President to admit him. 

“He is entirely below the age, Madame,” remarked 
the President, we have no pupils under twelve years 
of age; however, he allowed himself to be persuaded 
and acceded to the lady’s request on condition that 
the boy should have a special tutor, which would 
cost an extra fee. 

To this Mrs. Allen gladly agreed, as the child 
wanted three months of being ten years old and a 
private teacher was just what he needed. 

Bo was delighted to go up to St. Thomas’, espe- 
cially as it meant daily rides on the train. 


[ 77 ] 


CHAPTER VIII. 


The Coal Man. 

Whistling and with a roll of music under his arm, 
Bolax turned out of his way to go the woods. “It’s 
Saturday, thought he, and Professor was pleased 
with my lesson, so I’ll just take a holiday.” As he 
was turning off the bridge he heard some one say: 
“Well, young man, where are you bound for?” Look- 
ing up he saw Mr. O’Donnel, the coal man. “Where 
are you taking such a big load?” said Bolax. “Oh, 
about three miles out on the White Road.” “That’s 
the most beautiful road in the country; please let 
me go with you.” 

You seem to know a great deal about roads.” “Oh, 
yes ; I often take long rambles with Papa when he is 
at home ; he is so fond of wild flowers. So is Mamma ; 
she calls the woods ‘God’s own garden,’ and while 
there is a wild flower to be had, from the arbutus 
and hepatica in early Spring to the golden rod in the 
autumn, we gather them for our little Chapel. My 
Papa knows the name of every flower and shrub and 
tree that grows in the United States, and never 
tires telling me about them.” 

“Well,” said Mr. O’Donnel, “I’ll let you come along 
with me if you can climb up ; you’re a mighty know- 
ing sort of little chap, and I like to hear you talk.” 

The day was an ideal one. A clear sky, a bright 
October sun and a pleasant breeze all combined to 
make Bolax enjoy his drive, although one would sup- 
[ 78 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


pose he felt anything but comfortable perched on the 
hard seat of a coal cart. 

The road stretched out for nearly a mile, white as 
its name indicated, and as well cared for as if it were 
the driveway into a gentleman’s private demense. 
On each side, it was bordered by immense sycamore 
trees; their beautiful branches meeting overhead, 
and their smooth shining trunk resembling pillars 
in the aisle of some grand Cathedral. 

“This,” said Mr. O’Donnel, “reminds me of roads 
I saw in the North of France, only there you would 
be sure to see an altar or a cross erected by the 
pious people, many a time I saw men, women and 
children kneeling before these shrines. “Are you 
a Catholic ?” asked Bolax. “Indeed, and I am, thank 
God. Are you?” said Mr. O’Donnel. “Of course, I 
am,” answered Bolax, with a rising inflection as 
though he felt injured at anyone questioning his re- 
ligious belief. “Can’t you see in my face I’m a 
Catholic ; you ought to hear me stand up for my re- 
ligion. I knocked the stuffing out of Reddy Smith 
last week for saying the priest walked pigeon-toed.” 
“Ha ! Ha ! laughed Mr. O’Donnel, more power to you, 
my little man, always stand up for your faith and re- 
spect the priests ; there’s nothing like keeping faith- 
ful to your religion ; it will be a great comfort to you 
all through life. I remember what a comfort it was 
to me when I came near dying on the battlefield in 
South Africa.” “Oh!” exclaimed Bolax you don’t 
mean to say you were in Africa?” 

“Did you fight the Boers? I’ve heard so much 
about them, and Mamma and Papa took sides with 
them, and we all felt so sorry for the poor people.” 

[ 79 ] 


BOLAX: 


“And so did I and every Irish soldier; in fact, I 
deserted the English ranks, and with many others 
tried to help the brave Boers. They are good people. 
I could tell you stories that would fill a book about 
them, and they are religious according to what they 
know of religion. After the disaster at Colesburg, 
the Boers helped to bury the British dead; they 
prayed and sang hymns over the graves, and some of 
the leaders made impressive speeches, expressing 
their horror of the war, regretting the losses on both 
sides, and making supplication to the Heavenly 
Father that the war would soon end. Oh, it is fine 
Catholics they would make, but strange to say, I 
never heard of a Catholic missionary being among 
them.” 

“When I’m a man,” said Bolax, striking his knees 
to emphasize his words, “I’ll be a priest and go 
among those good people and teach them the true 
faith.” “God bless your innocent heart. I wonder 
if you’ll remember your ride with the coal man when 
you are a priest ; your Ma may scold when she knows 
of it.” 

“My mother teaches me to respect all respectable 
people, and I am sure you are very respectable, be- 
cause you are a good Catholic.” 

“Thank you for an out and out little gentleman,” 
said Mr. O’Donnel, “and God prosper you and your 
good mother. Here we are at our journey’s end; 
suppose you get down at the gate, my little, man, and 
run up to the house and ask to have the cellar win- 
dow opened for me; it will save time. Here is the 
ticket; you might get it signed. This is Carpenter 
Mansion.” 


[ 80 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Bolax ran off glad to oblige his friend and show his 
appreciation of the ride. 

It happened that Miss Devine had called for Amy, 
after Bolax left the house that morning and the}> 
were just now paying a visit to this family. Amy 
had never seen the beautiful place, and was de- 
lighted to become acquainted with the young ladies, 
and one little girl of her own age. While they were 
entertaining their company the maid called Mrs. Car- 
penter to say the key of the coal cellar was not to be 
found. Going into the kitchen, the lady saw a hand- 
some little boy with frowsy golden curls encircling 
his head like a wreath and a very smutty face, who, 
hat in hand presented the ticket to be signed and 
asked to have the cellar window opened; after say- 
ing this the boy bowed. Mrs. Carpenter was quite 
astonished at such gentlemanly manners, and smil- 
ing and patting the boy on the head she asked his 
name. “Bolax, ” said he, with another bow. “What 
an odd name,” said Mrs. Carpenter, and going to the 
door, she saw that the coal man was of respectable 
appearance, and apparently above his present occu- 
pation. Thinking to please him, she complimented 
him on the good manners of his little boy. “Yes, 
ma’am,” said Mr. O’Donnel, “he is a good sort of 
little chap, every one likes him. Miss Nellie, one of 
the young ladies, came into the kitchen to look after 
the caramels, which were cooling on the window sill. 
Bolax stood at the door; Miss Nellie offered him 
some candy, but he excused himself, saying : “Thank 
you ; I like caramels, but my hands are not fit to eat 
with.” “Oh, indeed;” well since you are such a 
polite little boy, I want you to have some candy. 

[ 81 ] 


BOLAX : 


Ellen gave him a towel and soap and water. Bolax 
gladly made himself clean so as to enjoy the cara- 
mels. Miss Nellie went back to the parlor and gave 
a description of the coal-man’s son, with such extra- 
ordinary good manners ; Sam and Charlie , her 
brothers rushed out to get a look at the little chap 
and have some fun with him. 

As soon as they sighted Bolax with his face half 
washed, his mouth all sticky ; they laughed and made 
his acquaintance immediately. “Fine candy? isn’t 
it,” said Sam. “You bet,” said Bo, “haven’t had any 
for a good while, ’cause I wouldn’t practice.” Miss 
Devine heard Bo’s voice, and listening for a moment 
said, “Let me see that boy.” On going to the 
kitchen door she made an exclamation which brought 
all the ladies on the scene. Then she laughed heartily, 
all caught the infection of her mirth, although they 
did not exactly understand why she was so amused. 
Amy, however, soon enlightened them, when, with a 
severe frown, she reproached Bolax for his appear- 
ance. 

“Why, who is he?” asked Mrs. Carpenter. “Oh,” 
said Miss Devine still laughing, “he is my little 
friend Bolax, Amy’s brother. Don’t be angry, Amy.” 
“I can’t help being angry ! it is too disgraceful ; just 
look at his clothes, and the smear on his face.” 

Bolax looked crest-fallen and took out his pocket 
handkerchief to wipe off the smear, but only suc- 
ceeded in adding two more black streaks, for, without 
his perceiving it, the handkerchief was filled with 
coal dust. 

Sam and Charley while bursting with laughter 
tried to console the boy, inviting him to look at their 
[ 82 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Pony. Bo forgot his sister’s displeasure while with 
the boys, and began to talk about his pets, his 
school, etc. 

“Where do you to go school?” asked Charlie. “I 
have just been up at St. Thomas’ for two weeks ; they 
didn’t want to take me because I’m not old enough, 
but Mamma begged the President, so he admitted 
me.” 

“Do you like the fellows up there?” said Sam. 

“Yes, pretty well, but my Mamma was mistaken 
when she said they were all gentlemen; they don’t 
bow and take off their hats when a priest speaks to 
them. And yesterday Father Clement was playing 
marbles Tor keeps’ with some boys, and he picked 
up an agate, and what do you think, one of the boys 
snatched it and caught hold of Father Clement’s arm, 
and he wasn’t struck dead!’ “Struck dead!” ex- 
claimed Sam. “What do you mean?” “Why my 
Mamma told me a priest was more holy than the ‘Ark 
of the Covenant,’ and once long ago, two men were 
struck dead just for putting their hands on the Ark. 
So I thought for sure, a boy that snatched a marble 
from a holy priest ought to be struck dead, but he 
wasn’t.” Sam and Charlie were inclined to laugh at 
this story, but restrained themselves, on seeing the 
awed expression on the little boy’s face, showing that 
he innocently believed disrespect towards a priest 
should be punished with death. 

“Well,” said Sam, assuming a serious air, “per- 
haps our Lord forgave the boy this time, that in 
future he may learn to be more respectful.” 

“The lawn of the College,” continued Bolax is kept 
so smooth and green; they have signs all around, 
[ 83 ] 


BOLAX: 


‘Keep off the Grass,’ but the boys pay no attention 
and actually walk on the nice lawn, when the poor 
Brothers have such work to keep it nice. I went be- 
hind a big fellow that was on the grass and I pushed 
him off, and asked him if he didn’t see the sign. 
“What did he say to you?” laughed the boys. “Oh, 
he called me a fusty kid, and said, ‘I’d get my eye 
teeth cut after awhile, if I stayed long enough at Col- 
lege. But, Ma says I cut my eye teeth when I was 
two years old.” “Is that so? Let me see,” said Sam, 
opening Bo’s mouth. “Yes, I really believe you have.” 

“Are the priests kind to you?’ 

“You bet they are. Why there’s one, oh, he is so 
beautiful, but the poor dear is lame. He stays in his 
room most of the time. Day before yesterday he 
asked me to come up to see him, and he showed me 
pictures, and told me a story of a soldier — and, oh, 
I just know he is an angel, because he has a closet 
full of guns.” 

Such a reason for being considered an angel struck 
the boys as so funny, that they laughed outright. 
Sam patted the little fellow on the head, and gave 
him a boy’s greatest compliment : “You certainly are 
a jolly good fellow, Bolax.” 

By this time the coal had been deposited in the 
cellar, so Bolax wanted to go away. “Oh, come in,” 
said Sam,” “and say Good-bye, but first let me wipe 
your face ; there is just a speck of black on the end of 
your nose.” Bo was very thankful to be made some- 
what presentable and entered the parlor, taking leave 
of the ladies in a most dignified manner, which ill-as- 
sorted with his begrimed appearance. 

[ 84 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“You’re not going to ride home on the coal cart?” 
said Miss Devine. 

“I’m not fit to get into your carriage,” said Bo. 

“Never mind, come with me; we’ll excuse you this 
time.” 

“But I must say ‘good-bye’ to Mr. O’Donnel, and 
get my roll of music ; it is on the seat of the cart and 
might get lost. Amy was ready to cry at Bo’s esca- 
pade, but the young ladies and their brothers en- 
joyed the joke immensely. As the carriage drove 
away the boys called out: “Come again little coal- 
man ; you’re a regular brick.” 

Bolax was delighted to hear this and turning to 
Amy, said : “Now, Miss Stuck-Up, the Carpenters 
like me even if I do ride with the coal man, and I 
know Mamma will say it don’t matter if my clothes 
are dirty, so I keep my soul clean.” “My darling 
little brother,” said Amy, throwing her arms around 
Bo’s neck, “forgive me if I have hurt your feelings. 
Your family knows how clean your soul is, but 
strangers only judge by outward appearances.” “Dear 
Amy,” said Miss Devine, “don’t take things so to 
heart.” Then in a lower voice, “for my part, I would 
not give our little flutterbudget, with his innocent 
mischief, for all the daintily-dressed boys in the 
country.” 

When the carriage stopped at their gate, the chil- 
dren bid “au revoir” to Miss Devine ; then she recom- 
mended Amy not to say much about Bo’s adventure. 

Aunt Lucy was standing on the porch. Bo did not 
wait to be questioned, but began immediately to give 
an account of his day, for he had been away since 
luncheon. “Oh, Aunt Lucy, Mr. O’Donnel is such a 
[ 85 ] 


BOLAX: 


kind man ! he has a mouth like a frog, and I always 
observe that men with mouths like frogs are kind to 
children.” 

“Indeed,” said Aunt Lucy laughing, “I never no- 
ticed that. I have no doubt your friend, Mr. O’Don- 
nel meant kindly in allowing you to ride with him, but 
he did not think of the danger there was for a stumpy 
little fellow, with short legs, perched so high. If the 
cart had lurched you might have fallen under the 
horses’ feet and been killed. So dear child, never try 
that again.” 

“Well, Aunty, I won’t, but may I talk to Mr. 
O’Donnel? his heart would be hurt if 1 passed him 
without speaking.” “Of course, dear; you may 
speak to the good man. Never willfully hurt the 
feelings of anyone.” 

January 15, winter began in “dead earnest,” as 
the boys say, although no one expected a blizzard, but 
by 2 P. M. the roads were impassable. 

The wind blew a terrible gale — no one could ven- 
ture out, and the four day scholars were obliged to 
stay at the College all night. 

The President telephoned to Mrs. Allen, not to 
worry; that Bo should be well cared for, and could 
remain with him until the roads were cleared, if it 
took a week. Mrs. Allen thanked the good priest and 
hoped her boy would give no trouble. 

The novelty of going to bed in a dormitory pleased 
Bolax, and the Prefect in charge gave him a night 
robe; then tucked him in bed as deftly as if he had 
been a woman, for the good man had a tender spot in 
his heart for all children. 

Everything being quiet— the gas was lowered and 

[ 86 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


the Prefect retired for the night. Suddenly Bolax 
gave a scream, “two rats ! Two rats, two rats ! cried 
he. In a second of time the whole dormitory was 
astir. 

The Prefect hearing the commotion rushed up- 
stairs and was greeted with: “Rats! Mr. Royal, 
Rats !” There were sixteen boys in the room ; so you 
can imagine how such an unusual chorus sounded. 

“Rats!” said Mr. Royal; where did they come 
from ?” 

“There were two in a large trap in the lavatory,” 
said Harry Dunn, “but how did they escape?” “Did 
any of you touch that trap ?” asked the Prefect. 

“Yes, sir;” answered Bo, “I did.” I felt sorry for 
the poor things ; I was just looking at them when the 
door of the trap opened somehow, and out they 
jumped, one struck my face as I leaned over.” 

“My dear boy,” said Mr. Royal, “you ought not to 
have gone near the trap, suppose that rat had bitten 
you.” 

Well now, all that is to be done is to catch them. 
A dozen voices expressed their owners’ willingness to 
go on the hunt, but Mr. Royal preferred calling up 
one of the men. 

In a few minutes, Alex, the gardener, came into 
the dormitory with “Happy Hooligan” and “Vixen.” 
two Scotch terriers. All the doors were shut, and the 
hunt began ; the rats did not keep together, but ran 
in different directions. As Alex would plunge under 
a bed, broom in hand, some one would scream out: 
“Oh, here he is, up at this end.” 

The boys calling to the dogs, set them wild, so they 
did not know which way to run. Such laughter! It 
[ 87 ] 


BOLAX: 


appeared to be great fun for the youngsters, just be- 
cause it was silence hour. 

At last the beasts were killed, and order was once 
more restored. Mr. Royal requested strict silence. 

“I won’t stay to watch you; I know you will all 
obey, so I trust to your honor.” And all did obey, 
for they loved and respected Mr. Royal, who always 
appealed to their honor. 

The next morning the whole college heard of Bo’s 
rats, and had a good laugh at the description of the 
hunt. 

Bolax made great strides in his studies under the 
kind care of his tutor, Father Anthony, and his re- 
ports delighted his father and mother. At Easter he 
received a beautiful picture of the Sacred Heart, as 
a prize for Catechism. 


L 88 ] 


CHAPTER IX. 


Amy's Trip to the Seashore. 

For seven long weeks Amy had been under the 
doctor’s care, suffering from Chorea; she had grown 
thin and pale, and her mother was beginning to 
worry over her condition. 

“What do you think, Lucy, of sending Amy to At- 
lantic City? she asked one day when they were con- 
sulting what had best be done for the child. 

“Dear sister, I feel sure the salt air is the best 
tonic for nervous trouble. I will take Amy down, 
but you know it is impossible for me to stay away for 
any length of time, as I have an important engage- 
ment for the summer.” 

“Well, I shall write to the Convent of the Sacred 
Heart, begging them to receive our invalid for a few 
weeks.” 

Mother Evans, who was Mrs. Allen’s particular 
friend, answered the letter, saying she would gladly 
care for the little girl, and that she could be sent 
down as soon as convenient. 

When Amy heard of the proposed trip, she was de- 
lighted, then upon reflection, expressed herself as be- 
ing afraid to meet so many strange girls, but when 
she saw a nice little trunk packed with every article 
of clothing, suitable for a sojourn by the sea, she 
was anxious to begin the journey. 

When all was ready, Mr. Allen decided that they 
should take a very early train, so as to arrive in a 


[ 89 ] 


BOLAX: 


strange town in full time to be at their destination 
before dark. 

Bo heard the sound of wheels, and looking out 
saw the pony chaise at the door, Amy gave her 
mother a fervent good-bye kiss, then all got into the 
chaise. Bo sprang on the seat, seized the reins, and 
was soon driving quickly down the road. They were 
not long in reaching the station. Amy was inter 
ested in watching the important business of procur- 
ing tickets and seeing her pretty trunk labeled; she 
wondered if she would be as well equipped as the 
other girls in the convent, but she need not have 
wondered, as there are so many little girls and boys, 
whose treasures bear ample evidence of Mother’s lov- 
ing hands. Those little touches of motherhood, hardly 
noticed by those whom they are so tenderly lavished 
upon, seldom, if ever valued until after those dear 
hands have been removed to another sphere, whence, 
perhaps, they may be sometimes allowed to come, un- 
seen by mortal eye to bear the loved ones up, whilst 
these may be longing wearily for that sweet “Touch 
of a vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that is 
still” 

It was a delightful place to visit, that convent by 
the sea, and many a pleasant hour Amy spent 
watching the waves come in on the white sands and 
break over her bare feet. Sometimes she donned her 
bathing suit, and paddled in the water with the other 
children, one of the Nuns always watching over 
them. 

It seemed nothing short of a miracle how quickly 
the child recuperated. At the end of six weeks she 
had so far recovered that her mother, who had come 
[ 90 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


to visit her, thought to take her home, but Mother 
Evans recommended a stay of sometime longer, so it 
ended in a visit of twelve happy, joyful weeks. 

The kind Nuns became very much attached to 
Amy, and she to them, and dear Mother Evans began 
her preparation for First Holy Communion. 

August was nearing its end when Mrs. Allen paid 
another visit to Atlantic City, this time, to bring her 
little girl home. She took board in a cottage near 
the convent, wishing to enjoy a few days of sea air. 

One day when seated on the beach, both mother 
and daughter silently watched the waves as they 
came in gentle ripples almost to their feet. Amy 
awoke from her reverie, exclaiming: “Oh, it is so 
beautiful !” She had been reading of the early ex- 
plorers of our country, the self-sacrificing mission 
aries who crossed this same boundless ocean, which 
now lay so calm before them. Amy went on mus- 
ingly, as if talking to herself, such a softness had 
come into her voice — her eyes took a dreamy far-off 
look, as though it were fresh in her mind — the story 
of the gallant De Soto and his brave company of six 
hundred men, the flower of Spanish chivalry, leaving 
the sunny slopes of his native Estramadura, sailing 
across these unknown seas, and landing upon these 
western shores; day after day pressing on through 
pathless wilds, on towards the sunset, in pursuit of 
that fabled El Dorado in which they thoroughly be- 
lieved. And then that sad death upon the banks of 
the river which his eyes first of all Europeans had be- 
held — the sorrowing band who resolved to hide his 
body in the waters — the little skiff, in the gloom of 
the soft summer night, pushing silently out from the 
[ 91 ] 


BOLAX: 


shadowy shore, with oars muffled and voices hushed, 
for fear of the savage arrows hidden among the dark 
vines — the dull sound as they dropped the body in 
mid-river, and the sweet, sad music as the priest sang 
low the requiem of the departed chief — the first 
requiem that had ever sounded upon those solitary 
shores, where the waves have for four hundred years 
chanted their long dirge over the man whose prowess 
first gave them to the world. 

There was, too, the grand old Ponce de Leon, who 
saw one Easter morning, a land rise out of the 
Western Sea — a land lovely in all its luxuriant vege- 
tation of a Southern spring, with breath and beauty 
of flowers. What better name could the romantic 
hidalgo devise than “Florida,” and where more fitly 
than here could he search for that wonderous foun- 
tain of perpetual youth ? 

Ah, brave old Spanish Cavalier. Did no soft wind 
wafted gently from afar over the flowery sunset land, 
whisper to you that, instead of youth and life peren- 
nial you should find, under the magnolia shade — a 
grave ? 

A hundred wordless dreams went flitting through 
Amy’s mind. I say wordless; for who shall say how 
we think; by what subtile art a thousand pictures 
pass swiftly on before one’s fancy, all so lovely and 
beyond the power of language — I mean our language 
to describe. 

For this reason it is, I suppose, that when a great 
poet speaks, all the dumb world recognizes what he 
unfolds. It is for us to feel, for him to paint. 

Amy was a very serious girl for her twelve years, 
constant association with her mother and aunt had 
[ 92 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


given her a taste for books which some might think 
dull for one so young, but she was always a dreamy 
child, from the time she used to lie in her baby crib 
and watch the round moon plowing through the 
feathery clouds, to this moment when she looks up at 
the blue sky spanning the boundless ocean. 

When Amy and her mother returned to the con- 
vent they found that dear Mother Evans had been 
called to New York. Mrs. Allen made a hasty prepa- 
ration so as to return home on the same train, happy 
in being able to avail herself of her dear friend’s 
company on the journey. Amy bade good-bye to all 
the household, thanking the Nuns for their kindness 
during her sojourn amongst them. 

Bo’s Summer Adventures. 

Bo too, spent a pleasant summer, he and several 
of his chums often went fishing, or hunting for wild 
flowers and curious stones, going into swampy places 
for specimens of plants, and sometimes coming home, 
as Hetty said, “Looking worse than Italian tramps.” 

One day Walter Rhue and Ned Thornton came to 
spend the day, Bo begged Hetty for a basket of 
luncheon, and off they went to have a day of it in the 
woods. It was the last week of August, rather 
warm, and after such a long tramp, they wanted to 
find a cool place for their picnic. 

They reached a brook, which was usually so low 
that it could be crossed on some stepping stones. But 
today it was much swollen, owing to a heavy shower, 
which had fallen the preceding night, the water was 
three feet deep, and rushed angrily over the stepping 
stones. 


[ 93 ] 


BOLAX: 


Walter and Ned took up poles, and rolling up their 
pants, were about to pick their way through the 
noisy current, but Bolax stopped them, and said: 
“Look here, fellows, I’ll show you how to cross a 
brook.” 

“You show me,” retorted Ned, “I guess I can beat 
you at that business any time.” 

“I guess you can’t,” rejoined Bo, “just wait a 
minute and see how I do it.” 

He then stepped upon an old log on the bank of the 
brook, and grasping the drooping branches of a large 
tree, which grew on the opposite side, prepared to 
swing himself across. He pulled the branch as far 
toward himself as possible, and then leaped forward, 
shouting in boastful tones : “This is the way to cross 
a—” 

Alas ! For Bo and his boasting. The branch broke 
and his weight tore it from the tree, so, instead of 
swinging across, he fell with a tremendous splash 
into the water. 

Walter and Ned burst into a fit of laughter, so un- 
controllable, that they almost fell from the stones on 
which they stood. As soon as they could speak, Ned 
cried: “I say Bo, you had better take out a patent 
for your new way of crossing brooks.” 

But Bo was not prepared to enjoy his friend’s 
joke. He was seated in the brook, with the water 
almost up to his chin. Seeing him so still, Walter 
went to the edge of the water, as near to him as pos- 
sible and said : 

“Bo you are rather in a wet place; why don’t 
you come out of it?” 

Bo then scrambled out, the water dripping from 
[ 94 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


his clothes. Walter, with all his fun, was not with- 
out some thoughtfulness, and fearing lest Bolax’s 
wetting might injure his health, urged him to hurry 
home to change his clothes. 

“No, I’ll sit in the sun and dry myself,” replied Bo 
in a surly tone. 

Ned tried to persuade him to run home, but he got 
angry with both boys. 

“Bolax, you’re a snapping turtle today, and I’ll 
leave you to recover your good temper.” 

“I don’t care ; you may both go to the moon, if you 
like.” 

“Oh, very well, Mr. President, of the Patent 
Brook Crossing Company,” said Walter with a pro- 
voking laugh. 

“You shut up, or I’ll throw you in the brook.” 

Bo did not usually show such temper, but his 
ducking had given him a chill, and made him nerv- 
ous. Ned, the peace maker, then remarked that it 
was silly for friends to quarrel. 

“Let us make up and get you home, Bo, or Hetty 
will never give us another lunch for a picnic.” 

When Master Bo got home, he tried to sneak up to 
his room, but his mother caught him on the stairs, 
such a sight as he was ! mud, slime, weeds clinging to 
his soaking clothes. 

Hetty raised her hands, horrified at the condition 
of her favorite. 

“Whar yous done ben? you is getten’ dreadful. 
Dat’s de second big scrape yous been in since you’ 
sister been away.” 

“Why, Hetty !” exclaimed Mrs. Allen. “What else 
[ 95 ] 


BOLAX : 


has Bo been doing? I hope you are not keeping 
things from your mother, my son. I fear something 
is very wrong with you. Did you get to confession 
last week?” 

“Mamma, I was going, but Father Clement was so 
cross to a fellow, who did a couple of mortal sins, 
and the fellow said he got pitched out of the box, so I 
got afraid.” 

Ma — Did the boy tell you what the sins were? 

Bo — I asked him, but he looked at me with such a 
face, and called me a “greeny.” 

Ma — Oh, you should not have asked him. 

Bo — Well, I just wanted to know if his sins were 
like mine. I couldn’t dare to go to confession, if he 
got put out for only two mortal sins, I would catch 
it, for I have committed such a pile of them. 

Ma — Merciful goodness, child ! When did you com- 
mit the sins? I was sure you told me all your 
thoughts and actions of each day. 

Bo — I do pretty much, Ma, dear, but you see I have 
not been having many talks with you at night for a 
long time. You let me say my prayers alone. 

Ma — My darling, I have been attending to poor, 
sick Papa, but I am sorry if my negligence has 
caused you to be careless about your conscience. Do 
tell me what sins you have committed. 

Bo — Well, you know that night I came home late? 
I did not actually tell a lie, but I twisted the truth. 
Ma, dear, if I tell you all about that day, promise you 
won’t get angry — Father Clement says anger is a 
mortal sin. 

Ma — Never mind that, I take care of my own con- 
science, just tell me about that day. 

[ 96 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Bo — Well, then, I went up to St. Thomas’ as you 
know, after luncheon, while waiting for the train to 
come home, a freight car passed and slowed up. I 
heard a fellow say, “Hello,” I said “Hello,” too, and 
when I looked up at him, I saw he was a friend of 
mine. 

Ma — A friend of yours ! 

Bo — Yes, Ma, dear, I often see that fellow when I 
am waiting at the station ; his name is Warner. He 
let me on his train several times. 

Ma — Oh, my son ! how could you be so disobedient ! 
Getting on trains when you know I have strictly for- 
bidden it. 

Bo — I know it was an awful mortal sin, and I 
came near being made to repent of it all my life. 
One of the college boys had made me mad, that was 
the reason I started for home. When I got to the 
station, Warner was standing on his train, he said : 
“Hello! are you the little kid that helped me stoke 
the fire last fall?” I said I wasn’t a kid now; I was 
ten years old. “That’s so,” said he, “come to look at 
you, you’re round as a barrel, but you ain’t growed 
taller.” Then I told him to shut up, and he said: 
“Oh, don’t get mad, just step inside the caboose, I’ll 
give you a ride to Dorton, and you can walk back 
home.” I got into the caboose, and Warner laughed 
and talked, and I never felt the time going until we 
came to a standstill and I found myself at Lock- 
faren. 

Ma — Great goodness, Bolax, it is a wonder you 
were not killed! Oh, how could you be so wicked, 
and who helped you home ? 

[ 97 ] 


BOLAX: 


Bo — I never thought of the wickedness until I saw 
where I was. Warner laughed at me, and said I was 
big and fat enough to walk home. Then I said to 
myself, “ha! ha! old fellow, now you’re in a fix. I 
can never walk twenty miles.” Lockfaren is only a 
flag station, there was no light — not a house to be 
seen, only the thick woods all around. My heart stood 
still with fear. When I found myself stranded in 
that lonely place, I knelt down and made an act of 
contrition for all my sins, then I begged our Blessed 
Lady and St. Joseph to help me. I expected some 
wild beast would come out of the woods and kill me, 
for wild cats have been seen in that neighborhood. 
Suddenly it came to my mind to pray to the Angel 
Guardian, for the Engineer on the next passenger 
train that would pass, to make a stop. Oh, how 
I prayed ! even more fervently than when I am sick, 
and you know how wonderfully I can pray then. 
Well, after a long wait in the pitch dark, for it 
was cloudy, and not even a star to be seen, I heard 
the welcome sound of a whistle, a bell rang, and I 
knew a train was coming. Sure enough it did come 
and stopped. The conductor and three men got out, 
each with a lantern, began examining the wheels ; I 
jumped on the car, and when the conductor came in, 
I walked up to him and told the whole story. He lis- 
tened and said: “Well, little man, it seems we 
stopped in direct answer to your prayer. Just as we 
reached Lockfaren, the Engineer warned me that the 
wheels were grating as if there was a “Hot box.” 
When we examined them, nothing was wrong.” I 
thanked the Conductor and told him my name and 
where he could see my father to get the fare, but the 
[ 98 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


kind man said he was only too glad to have rescued 
me. “I have a little boy of my own, so my heart 
warms to all boys, and I firmly believe kind Provi- 
dence watches over them ; in your case the stopping 
of the train seems almost a miracle in answer to your 
earnest prayer.” 

Ma — Why did you not tell me all this before? 

Bo — Oh, dear Ma ! I did not want to worry you. 
Papa was sick and Amy and Aunt Lucy away from 
home. It’s no use scolding me now, it happened two 
months ago. 

Ma — I know it happened two months ago, but dear, 
you should never hide anything from your mother. 
That good conductor should have been seen by your 
father, and thanked for his kindness, if not substan- 
tially rewarded. 

Bo — Well, here is his card; I wish you or Papa 
would write to him and pay my fare. Kiss me, dar- 
ling mother, and forgive me, and pray that I may 
never commit a mortal sin again. 

Lore. 


[ 99 ] 


CHAPTER X. 


Christmas and “Little Christmas” or King's Day. 

Christmas Eve had come and the children were at 
last asleep, dreaming of the pleasures in store for 
them on the morrow. Mrs. Allen and her sister sat by 
the fire completing a handsome smoking robe for Mr. 
Allen. 

The clock struck twelve, in soft, silvery chimes as 
the robe was folded and tied on the tree. 

Miss Lucy drew aside the curtain to look out upon 
the night. The snow had ceased falling, and now lay 
in feathery drifts on the silent village like a pure 
white veil, tracing graceful patterns among the dark 
trees on the hill side, while the stars above had the 
brilliancy of extreme cold. 

“Hark ! What was that?” said Mrs. Allen. “Surely 
not our bell at midnight? Let us call Dick; I'm 
afraid to open the door.” 

Mr. Dick and Hetty came running down and 
turned on the electric light. To the astonishment of 
all, on the porch stood a young woman with an in- 
fant in her arms. Mrs. Allen brought her in, asking 
no questions, for the poor creature was speechless 
with cold. Lucy took the baby, it opened its eyes and 
smiled, seeming very comfortable. Hetty gave the 
woman a hot drink, and Mrs. Allen took off her wet 
shoes and clothing, and gave her a warm foot-bath, 
then she was wrapped in a blanket and made to lie 
[ 100 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


down on the sofa before the fire. The poor soul was 
so exhausted she fell into a profound sleep. 

The good people then began to realize what they 
were doing, to ask themselves how the woman could 
have selected their house for a shelter. “Oh, let us 
thank our Lord,” said Mrs. Allen. “He has given us 
the privilege of harboring the harborless.” “Mrs. 
Allen,” remarked Hetty, “dis is just like dat verse 
you done teached Miss Amy: “To shelter de Holy 
wanderers on dat blessed Christmas night.” “Don’t 
you know, at fust, I thought it was the Holy Virgin 
and little Jesus. Well, I say it’s for luck dat baby’s 
come to dis house.” 

“Lucy,” said Mrs. Allen, “you had better go to bed ; 
that you may be able to get up in the morning to take 
the children to Mass. It is absolutely necessary one 
of us should remain home to care for our unexpected 
guests.” 

At five o’clock in the morning, Pat came into the 
kitchen to say the sleigh was ready if the folks were 
going to early Mass. “Turn your back and shut you’ 
eyes,” called out Hetty. Pat, supposing she had a 
Christmas gift for him, did as he was bid. 

“Is you’ eyes tight shut, Pat?” “Faith and they 
couldn’t be tighter, but hurry up, the folks ’ll be 
wantin’ the sleigh in a minute.” Hetty took the 
sleeping babe and laid it in the old man’s arms, then 
told him to look. Pat stared in utter surprise, his 
eyes and mouth wide open. Hetty stood laughing at 
his discomfiture, when he could speak, he exclaimed : 
“Holy saints ! where did this come from ?” 

“De Christ-child sent it twelve o’clock last night.” 

[ 101 ] 


BOLAX: 


“May the Lord bless us,” said Pat, “but it’s a quare 
thing entirely yees are telling me. Here, take the 
darlint; I must be gettin’ off or we’ll be late for 
Mass.” 

Mrs. Allen called the children before five o’clock, 
bidding them hurry downstairs, as she had a sur- 
prise for them. Hetty carried the babe into the 
library and laid it on the table under the electric 
light, its eyes were open, but it lay perfectly still. 

As the children caught sight of the little figure 
they were transfixed with astonishment. Amy made 
the sign of the cross; for the moment she thought 
only of the Infant Jesus, then examining closer, she 
saw it was a real live baby. “Of course,” said she, “I 
might have known the Infant Jesus would not come 
to us, we are not holy enough. Bolax kissed the 
little thing, saying “Isn’t it a dear ! Mamma, are you 
going to keep it?” 

“Come, now,” called Aunt Lucy, “we must not be 
late for Mass; when we get home we will hear all 
about the wonderful baby.” On the way to church, 
Aunty explained how it came that the poor mother 
was in the house, and no doubt would be able to tell 
why she sought shelter under their roof. 

“Well,” exclaimed Pat, “may God bless yees all for 
the most warm-hearted family I ever met. None of 
yees will ever be in want of a roof to cover you, for 
surely the dear Infant Jesus will not forget your 
many great acts of Charity.” 

At seven o’clock Hetty took some breakfast up to 
the woman, and brought her baby to be nursed. She 
seemed greatly refreshed and said she was able to get 
[ 102 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


up. “Don’t you stir, honey,” said Hetty, “unless you 
is real able, if you is, Mrs. Allen wants to see you in 
de library.” Having dressed herself and attended to 
her baby’s wants, Hetty took her downstairs. 

Mrs. Allen asked the woman’s name and ques- 
tioned as to the reason for selecting this house in 
which to take refuge. 

“Indeed, ma’am, I’ll tell you how it was, but first 
let me thank you ; sure it’s no wonder the station-man 
spoke so highly of your charity.” “Say nothing about 
that ; I only wish I had it in my power to do more.” 
“Well,” continued the woman, “my name is Mary 
Ryan. My husband was killed a month ago; he fell 
off a scaffolding while painting a house. I stayed with 
his people after his death, but they soon let me see I 
wasn’t welcome, so I went to an intelligence office to 
look for a place. The man made me pay him a dollar, 
then he gave me the address of a Mrs. Clarkson out 
here near the station. He said they especially wanted 
a woman with a child because such are willing to 
stay in the country. 

“I paid my fare out and got here at three o’clock, 
it was daylight then, and I hunted high and low for 
Mrs. Clarkson, but no one had ever heard of such a 
person. I didn’t know where to go, so I remained in 
the station as it was snowing hard. The watchman 
was so kind. He gave me a sandwich and asked me if I 
had nowhere to stop for the night. I told him just 
how it was with me. He said: “A friend of mine 
just happens to be outside with his sleigh and I’ll tell 
him to take you where you’ll be well treated. 

“I didn’t know but what it was a lodging house he 
[ 103 ] 


BOLAX: 


was taking me to; when he came to your gate he just 
put me on the boardwalk and told me to go up to the 
door.” 

“Well, Mary, you are welcome, poor child ; we will 
do what we can for you. Have you a valise?” “Yes, 
ma’am; the man at the station has care of it.” “I 
will send our man for it as soon as the sleigh comes 
back.” “Oh, God bless you ma’am !” “Don’t say any 
more, dear ; your name is Mary ; you and your child 
w T ere in need of shelter, like the divine Mother Mary. 
I consider it a privilege to be allowed to share the 
comforts our Lord has given me with any one in 
need.” 

“Go to Hetty now, she will take care of you. I 
know of just a place that will suit you, and in a few 
days when the roads are somewhat better, I will take 
you there.” 

In the excitement about the baby, the children for- 
got to look at their presents early in the day, but 
after Mass all were eager to see what old Santa had 
brought them. Amy received several gifts she had 
been longing for. Bolax got what he prized more 
than anything, viz: — a whole set of Father Finn’s 
books. 

The Christmas dinner was indeed a mirthful one. 
All the love gifts, as Mrs. Allen called those that 
were made expressly for each member of the family, 
had been placed on the tree behind the ornaments. 
Mr. Allen entered into the spirit of the evening, say- 
ing he would act the wizard’s part, and by means of 
long wand detached the various treasures from the 
tree and gave them to their owners, whose names 
they bore. 


[ 104 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Great was the delight of the children, when after a 
hard tussle to detach a large bundle, down it came on 
Mr. Allen’s head. It proved to be a beautiful smok- 
ing robe, which had been made and embroidered by 
Mrs. Allen, Lucy and little Amy. 

The good man was so charmed that he declared he 
would not use his wand again until he had full five 
minutes to admire it. Amy received a lovely pair of 
bed-room slippers, the work of Aunt Lucy; Mrs. 
Allen, a sofa cushion made by her sister in New 
York; Aunt Lucy, a blue silk waist, embroidered in 
white roses. Uncle Dick, a smoking cap, made by 
Mrs. Allen; Bolax, a pair of silk and woolen mitts, 
knit by Aunt Lucy. Bo gave Hetty a work box, which 
he made with his tools, and Amy, a needlebook, on 
which she had embroidered, “Hetty, dear.” Pat too, 
received a little “love gift,” but both faithful domes- 
tics had had a substantial present from the “Master.” 

Mr. Allen put on his robe and cap to please the 
children, strutting up and down the library floor, 
saying he was sure he resembled a Chinese Mandarin 
in his gorgeous robe. Now let us end the day with 
some of your spirited Yule-tide airs: “Strike the 
Harp” and “With Glory Lit the Midnight Air.” 
Every one sang with hearty good will to the accom- 
paniment of piano and violin. 

That night when the family sought their pillows, 
all felt that they had passed a very happy and holy 
Christmas. 

January Sixth. 

Bolax ran into the library covered with snow, his 
two dogs with him making a pretty mess on the rugs. 

[ 105 ] 


BOLAX: 


Mamma called out : “Look at the condition of your 
boots, child.” Hetty happened to be on hand with 
the broom. “Dat’s easy cleaned up,” said she. “Bo 
don’t think sometimes, but his heart is in de right 
place after all,” which “after all” was known to refer 
to a spirit of fun and a tendency to mischief such as 
most lively boys possess. 

“Does anyone remember that tomorrow is my 
birthday?” exclaimed Bolax. “Whew,” echoed Uncle 
Dick, “is that a fact? What will be the number of 
your years tomorrow?” “Eleven.” Hetty has made me 
a splendid cake, but I’m not to have a party because 
Papa is not well.” “Oh, but you’re going to have your 
chums,” observed Amy. “Yes, our jolly seven will be 
here, and Hetty says that enormous cake must be 
eaten at one sitting.” “You have made a mistake, 
brother, that very large cake is for the crippled chil- 
dren in St. Luke’s Hospital; there are eighteen of 
them in the ward and we are to take it there our- 
selves and divide it.” “That’s so, I had almost for- 
gotten about the poor children. We had better go 
there early in the morning and have the afternoon for 
our company.” 

“Children,” said Uncle Dick, “would you like to 
hear the story of the first time a cake was cut on 
King’s Day?” “Yes, yes, let us have it please!” ex- 
claimed both at once. 

Uncle Dick’s Story. 

The three wise men, Balthazar, Melchior and Gas- 
pard, were kings, living in countries widely sepa- 
rated; yet each one saw a wonderful brilliant star, 
[ 106 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


such as had never before appeared, and a heavenly 
messenger told them to follow this star, that it would 
lead them to a new-born king, who was to be greater 
than all the rulers of the earth. So the wise men or 
Magi set out bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and 
myrrh, which they were to give to the wonderful 
child, whose star they had seen in the “East.” 

They had traveled such a long time and were tired 
sitting on their camels, so they came to a halt near a 
dense forest. It had been raining for several hours 
and now the sound of distant thunder and the fury 
of the wind warned them to seek shelter for the night. 
Their followers took refuge in a cave and refused to 
go a step further ; so the kings were compelled to con- 
tinue their journey alone. After walking for a long 
time almost famished with cold and wet to the skin, 
they came to a little village and determined to ask 
hospitality at the first house they saw. This house, 
or I should say hut, was situated at the entrance of 
the forest, and belonged to a poor woodcutter named 
J aphet. 

The kings knocked very loudly, Japhet and his 
wife opened the door, wondering who could want them 
at such a late hour. Our distinguished travelers 
begged a shelter from the storm and some food. The 
woodcutter was startled when he saw such grand 
people, and hesitated about letting them into his 
cabin, big Melchior, however, settled the question by 
pushing back the door, then all entered. 

“Now,” said Gaspard, “do give us some supper and 
a place to rest, we will pay well.” “Alas! honored 
Sirs,” answered Japhet. “I have but one bed, and as 
for supper, we have nothing to offer but black bread 
[ 107 ] 


BOLAX: 


and water. But, we will do the best we can to make 
you comfortable for the night.” 

So the tired out kings sat down and were glad 
enough to eat of the black bread, and satisfy their 
thirst with water. Japhet then made a big fire and 
the kings having dried their clothes, laid themselves 
upon the clean straw bed, which the good wife had 
made for them. 

When morning light shone through the chinks of 
the cabin wall, the kings arose and prepared to con- 
tinue their journey. Balthazar, who was the most 
generous, said: “My good people I want to give 
you something in return for your hospitality.” “Oh, 
never mind,” said Japhet. “The little we had, we 
gave with a good heart, but we did not expect any- 
thing in return.” At the same time the poor fellow 
held out his hand. 

“I have no money,” explained Balthazar, “but I 
will leave you a souvenir, which will be of infinitely 
more value.” Saying this, he searched in his pocket, 
drew out a little flute, and presented it to Japhet, 
who received it with a look of disappointment on his 
face. 

“You see,” continued Balthazar, “if you make a 
wish while playing a tune, it will be immediately 
granted. Take the flute; do not abuse its gifts, and 
above all never refuse a shelter or food to the poor 
wayfarer. 

As soon as the three kings had left the hut, Japhet 
said to his wife: “Well, it seems to me, such rich- 
looking people could have given us something better 
than a toy, nevertheless I will try its power; should 
[ 108 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


not wonder though, if those fine gentlemen were 
not mocking us when they gave such a fool’s 
present.” 

“Oh, try it just once,” said his wife. Japhet then 
played a lively tune, at the same time wishing for a 
venison steak and some white bread. Great was the 
astonishment and delight of the poor people when 
they saw on their table all they had asked for. 

When Japhet was certain of the power of the flute 
he did not stop at necessities, as you may well be- 
lieve, he asked for all sorts of things ; indeed he kept 
the flute going from morning until night. 

He got new clothes for himself and his wife; had 
the best of food to eat, and, as all he had to do was 
to wish for a thing to have it, he became the richest 
man in the country. He fluted for a magnificent 
palace, which took the place of his poor cabin ; again 
he fluted and the palace was filled with fine furni- 
ture, pictures, statuary and luxuries of all descrip- 
tions. 

When everything was complete he gave a grand 
dinner, inviting all the rich people of the neighbor- 
hood. Every invitation was accepted, for no one 
remembered the poor woodcutter, who was now the 
mighty Lord Flutandget. 

In the dining hall the table was set with the finest 
service of gold, and cut glass reflected the light from 
hundreds of perfumed lamps. A band of musicians 
sat behind a bower of exquisite flowers, playing soft, 
sweet tunes. 

When all was ready, the guests sat down to a feast, 
the like of which had never been seen in the whole 
[ 109 ] 


BOLAX: 


Kingdom. Lord Flutandget was in the height of his 
glory, and looked as proud as if he owned the whole 
world. 

His wife sat beside him, feeling very ill at ease in 
her stiff silk, and scarcely able to move her hands 
for the rings, with which her fingers were laden. 

So that the feast should not be disturbed, the 
lackeys had been ordered to keep all intruders off the 
place. Besides this, my Lord Flutandget had two 
fierce dogs chained on either side of the gate to keep 
off beggars. 

The guests and their host gave themselves up to 
the full enjoyment of the feast. All were loud in 
their praises of My Lord and his Lady, compliment- 
ing them on their lavish entertaiment, wishing them 
long continuance of health, prosperity, etc. 

Well, this very evening the three Kings happened 
to be returning to their own country, after having 
paid homage to the Infant Christ. When they came 
near the village by the forest, they saw a splendid 
castle where formerly stood the woodcutter’s hut. 

“Ah, ha!” said Gaspard to Balthazar, “I should 
not be surprised if our old friend has not made bad 
use of your little flute. I wonder if he has kept his 
promise, and is kind to the poor, now that he is so 
rich.” 

“Well, let us try him,” said Balthazar. So disguis- 
ing themselves as beggars, they went to the gate of 
the castle, asking for a little food. The porter bade 
them “begone,” but as they insisted on being allowed 
to enter, the servants made such a clamor, that Lord 
Flutandget put his head out of the window to see 
[ 110 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


what was the trouble. Seeing the beggars, he ordered 
the dogs to be set on them, so the poor Kings were 
obliged to fly in a very unkingly manner. 

“I told you so,” said Gaspard, whom one of the 
dogs had caught by the shins. “I’ll fix him,” said the 
giant, Melchior. I’ll make him feel the vengeance of 
the three Kings.” 

In the meantime the guests continued to feast. 
Dessert had just been served; my Lord Flutandget 
held in his hand a broad silver knife, with which he 
was about to cut an enormous cake, each guest was 
to have had a slice to take home. Just then the 
noise of carriage wheels was heard; my Lord Flu- 
tandget looked towards the window, and seeing a 
grand carriage drawn by six white horses, he sup- 
posed it was some of the high and mighty guests he 
had invited, so he went himself to meet them. 

The three Kings entered in regal attire, crowns 
on their heads and clothed in purple and precious 
stones. Flutandget recognized his guests of the hut, 
but put on a bold front and begged them to take 
a seat at his table. 

“Thank you,” said Balthazar, coldly. “We cannot 
eat with a man who oppresses the poor and sets the 
dogs on them.” “I compliment you on the way you 
keep your promise,” said Melchior, the Giant King, 
and his voice sounded deep and severe. 

“Ah, you set your dogs on beggars,” said Gas- 
pard, who still felt an ache in his shins. “You often 
play on your flute, I see. Oh, wait a while; I’ll give 
you a tune that you have not yet heard.” and taking 
from his pocket a little flute, just like the one that 
[ 111 ] 


BOLAX: 


had been given to Japhet, he blew a terrible blast 
which caused all the glasses on the table to split. 
Again he put the flute to his lips, all the lights went 
out and the guests rushed from the castle, trampling 
over each other in their haste to get away. At the 
third sound of the flute, the palace disappeared, and 
the woodcutter found himself alone sitting on the 
ruins of his hut, he and his wife clothed in rags. 

“Oh, what shall we do?” said the poor woman. 

“Never mind,” said Japhet, “I still have the flute.” 
But search as he would, the talisman could not be 
found ; it had disappeared with the three Kings. 

Ever since this happened, it is customary to have a 
large cake on “King’s Day,” January 6. It is filled 
with small silver coins and a slice is given to visitors, 
or to any poor person who comes to ask an alms. 

“I like that story,” said Amy, “although it is not 
in the Bible.” 

“Well, dear, you may imagine the Kings met with 
many adventures on their long journey, and the 
occurrences I relate might have happened as likely as 
those we read of in ‘Ben Hur.’ Stories of this kind 
can do no possible harm, and after reading them, 
children’s curiosity is excited, they want to know 
more, so they become interested in Bible history.” 

This reminds me of a visit I paid to a lawyer in 
Chicago, and what happened to him for his lack of 
knowledge of Bible stories. 

A friend of mine, who is a very successful lawyer, 
in the course of conversation one day, declared he 
believed the time had come when lawyers should 
[ 112 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH ? 


know a few things besides law. The Bible, for in- 
stance. 

“That is a very worthy thought,” said I. 

“I don’t claim to be any better or worse than the 
next person,” went on the lawyer, “but I believe a 
good knowledge of the Scriptures would benefit a 
man of my calling professionally.” 

“And spiritually,” I suggested. 

“I dare say it would. I had a case in one of those 
downtown justice shops. It went to a jury trial, and 
the bailiff hauled in half a dozen of those profes- 
sional hoboes, that are always hanging around such 
places, on the chance of making a couple of dollars 
by sitting on a jury.” 

“I put up two witnesses to prove my case, and one 
repeated and corroborated the evidence of the other 
in every particular. The lawyers on the other side 
argued that this exact agreement of my witnesses at 
every point made their testimony unreliable. He 
said no two men could possibly give the same 
account of what they had seen, not even men of 
sound and undoubted rectitude. He said that even 
the Bible proved this, and then he told the story of 
Jonah and the whale.” 

“How did Jonah come into the case?” I asked. 

“Just this way, my opponent said the Bible con- 
tained two versions of the story, one by St. Matthew, 
and the other by St. Mark. St. Matthew’s account 
was that Jonah made the entire voyage inside the 
whale, while St. Mark declared that Jonah came 
out occasionally and sat on the whale’s back to get a 
breath of fresh air.” 


[ 113 ] 


BOLAX: 


“Dear me,” said the presiding judge. “That ver- 
sion of the voyage of J onah sounds strange to me. I 
suppose you can give chapter and verse for it. If 
you can, I wish you would.” 

“He can do no such thing, your Honor,” said I. 
“There is no account in the Bible that tells of Jonah 
riding on the whale’s back.” 

My opponent glanced from one to the other of us 
contemptuously, and then looked significantly at the 
jury. 

“Gentlemen of the jury,” he said solemnly. “I am 
not addressing my remarks to this Honorable Court, 
nor to the learned gentleman on the opposite side of 
this case, whose lamentable ignorance regarding one 
of the most familiar Scriptural narrations, I sin- 
cerely deplore.” 

“In drawing a parallel between the suspiciously 
coinciding character of the evidence here given by 
two witnesses, who apparently have compared notes 
with extreme care, and the discrepancies shown in 
the statements of two great inspired writers, I am 
directing my remarks to intelligent, upright men, 
who study their Bibles, and who have the great 
truths of Scripture at their finger ends.” 

“You should have seen how that bench of hoboes 
nodded complacently as that audacious lawyer in- 
sulted the Court and me. The upshot of the whole 
business was that I lost my case, and all through not 
knowing what St. Matthew and St. Mark wrote 
about Jonah.” 

I could scarcely keep from laughing while my 

[ H4 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


friend was telling the story, but at this point, I broke 
out in a prolonged fit of merriment. 

“What amuses you so much?” said my friend. 

When I could control myself sufficiently to speak, 
I told him neither St. Matthew nor St. Mark ever 
wrote that story. It was written thousands of years 
before they were born. Jonah and the whale story 
belongs to the Old Testament. 

“You don’t say ! Well, I’ll be switched !” exclaimed 
my friend. “My only consolation,” continued he, “is 
that the Judge didn’t know any more than I did.” 

That’s a good story, Uncle Dick, but if your lawyer 
had a mother like mine when he was a boy, he never 
would have made such a ridiculous mistake about 
Jonah. 

“Come, children,” called Aunt Lucy, “it’s past bed 
time.” 

“Good night, Uncle. Good-night Grandpa Mis- 
chief.” 


[ 115 ] 


CHAPTER XI. 


Practising. 

Ma — Bolax you are wasting your time, don’t stop, 
you have not practised long enough. 

Bolax — Look at the clock, Ma, dear. It was bright 
sunlight when I began, and now the shades of night 
are falling.” 

Ma — That’s very poetical, but you must continue 
practising. 

Bolax — Oh, you are the provokingest mother I ever 
saw ; I’ll not love you a bit after a while, if you keep 
on making me practise. 

Ma — Go on with your lesson, especially that piece 
for the concert. 

Bolax — Bang, bang, oh, how I wish the man who 
invented pianos was dead. 

Ma — Well, he is dead. 

Bolax — Then I wish all the professors were dead. 

Ma — A great many of them are. Go on with your 
work. 

Bolax — Oh, Ma, dear, can’t you let up on a fellow, 
if you don’t, indeed, indeed, I’ll be dead too !” 

Ma — That has no effect upon me, Bo, I make you 
practise for your own good. I take the trouble to sit 
here and worry over you, when I might be upstairs 
resting.” 


[ 116 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Bolax — But Ma, dear, how do other boys manage? 
Their mothers don’t bother to make them learn 
music. 

Ma — Perhaps those boys don’t need the urging 
you do. 

By this time the patient mother began to show 
signs of nervousness, and Bo, who really loved his 
“Ma dear” began to play with a will, but having the 
spirit of mischief strong in him, put some funny 
words to the tune he was playing. 

Bolax — Oh, twenty thousand rats and forty thou- 
sand cats, they all screamed and yelled in sharps and 
flats ! 

Suddenly turning round on the stool, he said, “Ma, 
dear, just let me tell you a dream I had, while I’m 
resting my fingers.” 

Ma — Well, only for two minutes. 

Bolax — Last night you made me practise so much 
and old Professor was so dreadful at lesson, that I 
dreamed I went to the piano, and all the keys turned 
to Brownies, they looked more like Goblins, and be- 
gan to dance up and down, they played jig music. It 
was fine. I gave them “On the Meadow” and “Sounds 
from the Forest,” and they played the two pieces 
right off. 

Ma — Now dear, give just one-half hour more to 
your lesson and I’ll let you have all day tomorrow 
free, it’s the beginning of the Christmas holidays, 
and the cold is so intense I shouldn’t be surprised 
if the skating and sliding would be fine. 

[ 117 ] 


BOLAX : 


Thus spurred on, Bo surprised himself, and the 
half hour was more than passed when his mother 
called him to come upstairs, but he was in the middle 
of a piece and waited to finish it. 

Bolax continued playing softly, then called out — 
“Ma, dear! I wonder if we will have an adventure 
this year like last Christmas.” “Not very likely, my 
dear; fortunately there are not many placed in the 
position poor Mary Ryan was that night. I have 
invited her to come to the Sunday-school enter- 
tainment, and her little Joe is to represent the infant 
Jesus in the tableaux of the crib.” 

“Oh, that will be splendid. Hurrah !” shouted Bo. 

December 23 was a glorious winter day. The sun 
shone brilliantly, no wind, and the thermometer low 
enough to keep the skating pond in good condition, 
the ice and snow on the hills crisp and slippery for 
coasting. All day long was heard the jingle of sleigh 
bells and the shouts of merry children enjoying them- 
selves, rang through the air. 

Elmer Mullen, who was a boy of sixteen, had 
formed a great friendship for Bo. He was quite a 
good musician and seemed attracted towards the 
little boy because of his musical talent. 

Whenever there was any especial fun on hand, 
Elmer always called for Bo to join him. There were 
seven boys who always went together — Elmer Mul- 
len, John Montgomery, Joe Davis, Tom Nolan, Wal- 
ter Rhue and Bolax. Elmer and John had been pros- 
pecting for a hill to make a toboggan slide. They 
found one very high, but rather steep, it was about 
a mile from the village. This was just what suited 
[118] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


them for they wanted to keep away from the rough 
crowd. 

On the very top of this hill was a small shanty 
built the previous summer by the men who had been 
cutting down trees. 

“Say boys,” said Elmer, “let us play we are the 
monks of St. Bernard.” 

“But we haven’t even one St. Bernard dog,” said 
John. 

“Yes, we have,” replied Archie. “Joe Davis has a 
tremendous fellow, he rolls in the snow, and dug out 
a chicken that had been buried in a drift, and brought 
it into the kitchen without hurting it.” “Let us have 
him by all means,” said Elmer. “We will call the 
hut our monastery and pretend this hill is the top of 
Mount Blanc ; we’ll send our dogs to find people who 
are lost in the snow.” 

“I can bring our Don,” said Bolax. “He’s most 
as big as a St. Bernard, but where will we get people 
to rescue ?” 

“Let me see,” reflected Elmer. “I am the oldest; 
I’ll be the Abbott, you boys will be the brothers ; you 
must all obey the Abbott” — “Obey!” exclaimed Bo. 
“Oh, that’s no fun, we’re always having to do that. 
I want to whoop and holler; let us be snowed-up 
Indians and make the shanty our Teepee.” 

“Well,” said Elmer, “this afternoon we seven boys 
will meet (bring the dogs and sleds, then we’ll decide 
which it shall be — Monks or Indians.” 

After dinner the seven chums climbed Mount 
Blanc, Elmer told the boys Mount Blanc was one of 
the highest mountains in Europe, about 10,000 feet 
[119] 


BOLAX: 


above the level of the sea. “Great goodness!” ex- 
claimed Bolax. “No one could ever climb such a 
height! Oh, Elmer let us be Esquimos.” Saying this 
Joe Davis and Bo began a series of gyrations accom- 
panied by war-whoops, and getting on their sleds, 
pitched down the hillside into an unexpected drift. 
Nothing could be seen of them but the soles of their 
shoes. 

Elmer and the other boys set to work immediately 
to rescue the Indians. With the help of Don and 
Bosco both were gotten out after very hard digging 
with boards, for they dared not wait to go to find 
shovels, lest the boys would suffocate. When our 
brave Indians were delivered from their perilous 
position, it took vigorous rubbing to bring them to 
their senses. 

Elmer then proposed placing them on the sleds 
and taking them home. On the way they stopped at 
a farmhouse and the good woman gave them some 
hot lemonade, with a generous supply of sugar, the 
boys found it delicious and were loud in their expres- 
sions of gratitude, for the hot drink entirely revived 
our Esquimos. 

Passing along the road to the village they saw 
some grown folks in Houston’s meadow sledding, 
and shouting as if they were boys again. Joe Davis’ 
papa was among them, so he ran to join in the fun, 
not a whit the worse for his snow bath. 

Elmer suddenly remembered that Professor had 
appointed that night for th^ rehearsal. “Oh, yes!” 
said Bo. “By the way, it’s to be at our house and 
I had forgotten all about it. Mamma has invited 
[ 120 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


some of the neighbors to spend the evening and act 
as audience, so that the timid ones will get used to 
playing before strangers. Here we are. The gate is 
open and there’s a sleigh at the barn, I shouldn’t 
wonder if Professor had come already. Elmer, do 
hurry back; don’t dress as if it were the real con- 
cert.” 

When Bolax went into the library, Papa and Pro- 
fessor were chatting pleasantly, seated before a roar- 
ing fire with its yule log, reminding one of the 
“Merry Christmas” cheer of olden times. “Hello, my 
boy!” said Professor, reminding Bo that he had 
promised to distinguish himself and hoping he had 
practised so well as to be sure of all his pieces. 
“Marie Love is my prima donna and I want you to be 
leading man.” 

After tea the young ladies and children who were 
to take part in the concert came into the house laugh- 
ing and shaking the snow from their clothes, all 
enjoyed the cheerful fire, and when comfortably 
warm the music began, as Professor did not wish to 
keep late hours on a snowy night. 

Elmer gave a selection from the “Carnival of 
Venice” on the violin. Every one complimented 
him, but Bo was loud in praise of his favorite chum. 

“What do you expect to do with yourself, Elmer, 
after you leave school ?” asked Mr. Allen. 

“Well, I hope to be a priest, I expect to enter the 
seminary next September.” 

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Bolax. “Now I know why 
you wanted to play Monks instead of Indians.” 
This caused the whole adventure of the afternoon to 
[ 121 ] 


BOLAX : 

be recounted. Professor laughed heartily at the ex- 
ploit of the Indians, but begged Bo to keep out of 
danger until after the concert. “I don’t want your 
head or hands to be lacking that night. Now, ladies 
and gentlemen, if you are ready we will begin. The 
first on the program is : 


1. Lorita Grand Concert Waltz Holst 

Master Allen and Miss Love. 

2. Mazurka Tzigane : Lichner 

Miss Amy Allen. 

3. Violin Solo, 

Bessie Donati. 

4. Narcissus /. Leybach 

Miss Louis Harrison. 

5. Oration on Music. 

Elmer Mullen. 


Oration on Music. 

The pleasure derived from music arises from its 
exciting agreeable sensations, and creating pleasing 
mental images and emotions. Apart from words, it 
expresses passion and sentiment; joined to words it 
becomes a beautiful illustration of language. From 
the earliest ages of the world music was held in high 
esteem, and in Egypt and Greece was considered an 
essential part of the religion of these ancient nations. 
God’s greatest gift for man’s pleasure is the hearing 
of sweet sounds. He gives us music in songs of the 
birds and there is such a variety of these aeriel musi- 
cians. In Paraguay, South America, is a bird called 
the “bell.” When traveling through the forest one 
hears it at early morning, at mid-day and in the even- 
ing. So wonderfully like a bell is the note of this 
bird that on hearing its clear ring at regular inter* 
[ 122 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


vals, one would suppose lie were listening to the An- 
gelus-bell from the tower of some church or monas- 
tery. 

Music must be loved to be studied profitably. 
Each new step taken in the right direction develops 
power and suggests possibilities to the loving 
student. 

Music is useful in all occupations of life. How 
often have we not heard of missionaries converting 
savage tribes by telling them the truths of religion 
in song. 

The physician can bring music with his practice 
and calm a nervous patient by playing a soft, sooth- 
ing air, which sometimes has more effect than medi- 
cine. 

Music is not only a body healer, it is also a mind 
regulator. Inward activities are called up, and be- 
come new powers within the breasts, for, remem- 
ber emotion nerves for action. 

The most stupid horse that goes up hill to the 
sound of bells, the timidest soldier that marches to 
battle with fife and drum, the most delicate girl who 
spins around tireless in the dance, the poorest laborer 
who sings at his work, any of them will prove that 
music rouses and sustains emotion. 

Painting, sculpture and other arts which men 
spend years and years acquiring are useful for this 
world only, but music they can take with them to 
Heaven. 

O, music! thou language of the Gods, how shall 
I find words wherewith to sound thy praises. Thou 
art the soother of sorrows, earth is happy under thy 
[ 123 ] 


BOLAX: 


influence, and Heaven would be deprived of half its 
glory without thee ! 

This was very much applauded, and Colonel 
O’Brien called out “well done, Father Mullen, you’ll 
be giving us fine sermons in a few years.” 


Next number is : 

6. Charge of the Uhlans Carl Bohm 

Mr. Clement Lowery. 

7. Menuette l’Antique Gol)l)art 

Miss Nora O’Brien. 

8. Ivy Leaves H. Leston 

Flossie Holloway. 

9. L’Hirondelle Leybach 

Master Bo Allen. 

10. Overture to Barbier de Seville Rossini 

Professor Rinaldi and Miss Marie Love. 

11. Les Rameaux. 

John Kenan. 

12. Song — “The Bells that Ring for me Rinaldi 

Miss Charlotte Verier. 

13. Marche Triumphale Mozart 


Miss Amy and Bolax Allen. 

This ended the rehearsal. Professor then spoke a 
few words thanking the audience for their evident 
appreciation of his pupils’ efforts. 

Colonel O’Brien, who seemed to be spokesman for 
the rest of the company, said: “Professor, it is we 
who should thank you. I can honestly say I am 
surprised at the proficiency of your pupils; either 
they have extraordinary talent or you are a wonder- 
fully successful master. Now let us give three cheers 
for Professor and wish him health, happiness and 
great success for the coming year.” The cheers were 
given with a hearty ring, for the dear gentleman was 
highly esteemed by every one. 

[ 124 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“Professor,” said Elmer. “Bolax knows a fine 
piece, I think it ought to be on the program.” “Well, 
Elmer, not this time; I fear we have kept our audi- 
ence too long for such a stormy night.” 

“Oh, no, no!” called out several of the ladies. 
“Come, Bo let us hear your oration.” 

“Oh, bother! It is not an oration; it’s just a 
funny piece about a newsboy, who got into a church 
and is astonished at all he hears and sees. 

THE NEWSBOY’S SOLILOQUY ON HEARING A BOY 
SING IN CHURCH. 

By Thomas Kelley, of Omaha. 

“Well, ye see, I’d sold my papers, 

Every bloomin’ blessed one, 

And was strollin’ round the corner. 

Just a prospectin’ for fun, 

I was loafin’ by the railin’ 

Of that church you see right there, 

With its crosses and its towers, 

Kind of settin’ off the square, 

And I got a sort of lonesome, 

For the gang, they weren’t around, 

When I heard a noise of music, 

Seemed like cornin’ from the ground. 

It was nothin’ but some singing’, 

But it sounded mighty fine, 

Course, I ain’t no judge of them things, 

An’ its no affair o’ mine. 

Then it seemed to kind o’ weaken, 

And I didn’t hear it plain, 

Till the band struck up a whoopin’ 

An’ heerd it all again. 

Well there seemed to be a show there, 

That I thought I’d like to see, 

An’ there was so many a goin’ 

I jest says — I’ll bet it’s free. 

[ 125 ] 


BOLAX : 


So I looks around the corner, 

An’ I makes a careful search, 

For I knew the kids’d guy me, 

If they heerd I’d been to Church. 
Well, there warn’t a soul a-lookin’, 

So I up an’ walks right in, 

An’ I sat down in a corner, 

While they finished up their hymn. 
Well, sir ! blow me if I ever 
Was so taken aback ! 

There was marchin’ up the aisle 
A gang of kids in white an’ black. 
They was singing’ just like angels, 

An’ they looked so slick and nice, 

I wondered where they got ’em — 
Were they always kept on ice? 

An’ they wore a long black cloak, sir ; 
Cornin’ to their very feet, 

An’ an overall of white stuff, 

Just like what’s in a sheet. 

Then some men came on behind them, 
Singing loudly as they came, 

But although’ the kids was weaker, 
They got there all the same. 

Then behind the whole percession, 
Came two men, most all in white, 

An’ they wore some fancy biziness, 
An’ they looked jest out o’ sight, 

But they didn’t do no singing’, 

Just kept still an’ looked ahead, 

An’ says I’ll bet there runnin’ 

All the show, that’s what I said. 

Then they all got up in front there, 
An’ the music sounded grand, 

But to save my neck I couldn’t, 

Get a sight, sir, of the band. 

I could hear it as distinctly, 

So I guessed it must be near, 

But I saw no men, nor nothin’, 

An’ I thought it very queer. 

[ 126 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Well, a man was standin’ near me, 

An’ I touched him with my hand, 

Then he looked around and saw me, 

An’ sez I: “Say, where’s the band?” 
Then he looked at me a grinin’, 

Just as tho’ I’d made a joke, 

That ’ere look he gave me, 

Made me sorry that I’d spoke. 

Then he says : “Why, that’s the orgau 
All those pipes you see up there, 

One man plays it with his fingers, 

An’ another pumps the air.” 

Here the music stopped so sudden, 
That I most forgot myself, 

An’ I heerd some man a talkin’ 

From a book laid on a shelf. 

Then they all got up and read some, 
First the man, then the crowd, 

After that they knelt down softly, 

An’ I seed their heads were bowed. 

So I bowed my head down too, sir ; 

An’ listens to every word, 

But I didn’t understand them, 

Every time they said, “Good Lord !” 
Well they kept that up some longer. 
Till a plate came down the aisle, 

An’ some people dropped in money, 
Some others dropped a smile. 

I suppose they’d come on passes, 

For they were allowed to stay, 

So I gave them my four pennies, 

It was all I had that day. 

Then a kid got up in front there, 

With a paper in his hand, 

All the rest was sittin’ quiet, 

An’ the man tuned up the band. 

Well, that kid began a singin’ 

Till I thought my heart ’ud break, 

For my throat was full of choking, 

An’ my hands began to shake. 

[ 127 ] 


BOLAX : 


Well, I never seen no angels, 

An’ their songs I never heard, 

But I’ll bet that there’s no angel, 
Beats that kid — for he’s a bird. 

He was lookin’ like a picture, 

With his robes of white and black, 
An’ I felt my tears a cornin’, 

For I couldn’t keep ’em back ; 

An’ I wondered if he always 
Was as good as he looked there, 
Singin’ all about the angels, 

Angels ever bright an fair, 

Well thinks I, guess it’s easy, 

To be good and sing so sweet, 

But you know it’s kind o’ different, 
Sellin’ papers on the street. 

When the kid got thro’ his singin’ 

I got up an’ made a sneak, 

An’ I went outside the church there, 
An’ I swear I couldn’t speak. 

Then I ran across the gang, sir ; 
They was hangin’ round for me, 

But some how I didn’t want ’em, 

An’ just why, I couldn’t see. 

So I said I couldn’t join ’em 
Cos I had another date, 

An’ I went on walking homeward, 
Like a kid without a mate. 

An’ I sneaked in just as quiet, 

An’ I lay down on my bed 
Till I slept an’ got a dreamin’ 

‘Bout the angels overhead. 

An’ they wore such shinin’ garments, 
An’ they sang so sweet and fine, 

An’ the one right in the middle 
Was that singin’ kid of mine. 

Now I kinder want to know, sir — 

So I’m askin’, you see — 

If them kids can all be angels, 

Is there any show for me? 

[ 128 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Bo was applauded “to the echo,” and Professor 
said that piece should be recited at the May Con- 
cert. Just before leaving, every guest had to take a 
cup of cocoa, as Hetty said. “You all jest drink it 
up, it will put a web of flannel round you’ heart, an’ 
keep out the cold dis freezin’ night.” 

Elmer and the boys started a college song — “Good 
Night and Good-Bye ’Till We Meet Again.” 


t 


[ 129 ] 


CHAPTER XII. 


First Communion. 

After school closed Mrs. Allen had a serious con- 
versation with her son on the subject of First Holy 
Communion. “You are now past eleven, dear child, 
and I want you and Amy to devote the whole vaca- 
tion to immediate preparation for your First Com- 
munion. Sister Amy is thirteen, but owing to her 
infirmity, has been deprived of that favor until now. 
I have made arrangements with the Sisters of Mercy 
to take you for the next six weeks, that you may be 
under special instruction and away from mischiev- 
ous pranks and scrapes like those of last summer, 
when in company with the village boys.” 

“But Ma, dear, six weeks ! Will I have to be silent 
and pray all that time ?” 

“No, no, my son; there are a few nice boys in the 
Convent who will remain all summer, so you will not 
be without recreation. Indeed, you will have plenty 
of fun, for the Sisters play ball with the boys.” * 

Amy came into the room while her mother was 
speaking. 

“I have just been telling Bolax of what we propose 
doing by way of preparation for that most important 
event of our lives, viz : the First reception of our dear 
Lord in Holy Communion.” 

“You both know your catechism perfectly, and I 
am sure understand all you have studied. I know 
[ 130 ] 








* 




- 


- 









IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


you firmly believe all the sacred truths contained in 
the Gospels and Teachings of the Catholic Church. 
For the past three years our talks on the subject 
have been many and earnest. You know how kind 
our dear Lord was while here on earth, how he fed 
five thousand people in the wildnerness. Well, He is 
just as loving and kind now, and gives us His prec- 
ious Body and Blood to nourish and comfort our 
souls. So, dear children, let all your thoughts, 
words and actions from this day be offered up as a 
preparation for that greatest of all events of your 
life, your First Holy Communion.” 

“We will give up all reading, except books that 
lead our thoughts to holy things, not necessarily dull 
or uninteresting because they are holy. You know 
how delighted you were with ‘Fabiola, Faber’s Tales 
of the Angels,’ ‘Babies Who Died for Christ,’ ‘The 
Little Spouse of the Blessed Sacrament.’ ” 

“I should like to read ‘Fabiola’ again Ma, dear,” 
said Amy. “I always feel — I don’t know exactly how 
to describe my feelings after reading such a book as 
’Fabiola’ — happy, calm, a longing to have been one 
of the first Christians to have loved our dear Lord 
as did little St. Agnes.” 

“And I,” said Bo, “wouldn’t I enjoy going round 
with the big soldier Quadratus, and tearing down the 
Emperor’s edicts against the Christians. Oh, wouldn’t 
I play tricks on those mean old Pagans; I tell you 
I’d make them skiddoo.” 

“Mamma,” said Amy, pointing to a painting of 
Ecce Homo, “I do so love that sad face; sometimes 
when I sit here and look at it intently, the eyes seem 
[ 131 ] 


BOLAX : 


to open. Once I was so sure of it, I got Hetty to take 
the picture down. Oh, I feel so sorry for our dear 
Lord, especially his crown of thorns. Why, oh why, 
couldn’t they have taken it off while he was carrying 
the cross. He must have struck His sacred head 
against the cross as he staggered under its heavy 
weight up that awful road to Calvary,” and the 
gentle, tender-hearted girl sobbed aloud. 

Bolax, at this, jumped up, dashing a book against 
the wall and kicking his chair, he exclaimed : “Oh, if 
I had been there I would have gotten a crowd of boys 
and thrown stones at those awful executioners ! 
Surely lots of boys must have known and followed 
Jesus — what cowards they were! You don’t hear of 
any one offering to help Him; every one was afraid 
except brave, glorious St. Veronica.” 

“My dear impetuous boy, I am comforted to know 
you think of and feel for our suffering Savior.” 

“What you would have done had you been present 
at the awful scene on the road to Cavalry, do now, by 
making sacrifices of your own will, suffering some- 
thing for the love of Jesus.” 

“You must not compare the American boy with the 
boys of those long ago times; the Roman soldiers 
who were driving Jesus were naturally cruel and 
rejoiced in having a victim on which to exercise their 
cruelty. They would have exterminated even a 
crowd of men had they dared to interfere, and boys 
would have been crushed to death instantly. Mercy 
was an unknown virtue to the people of those days.” 

“Mamma,” said Amy,“ thinking of my general 
[ 132 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH? 


Confession, I feel I must ask your advice on one sub- 
ject; is it a sin to pray for animals?” 

“Ok, Ma, dear,” interrupted Bolax, “I want to ask 
about that too.” 

“Elmer Mullen laughed at me when I told him I 
always prayed for poor horses, dogs and cats that I 
saw badly treated. Sometimes I beg men and boys 
to cease their cruelties ; often I fight those that won’t 
stop tormenting animals, then when all fails I just 
pray for the poor things. And Ma, dear, while I 
think of it, did you ever see a nanny goat faint?” 

Serious little Amy burst out laughing at the odd 
question, and Bo’s earnest expression of countenance 
• when asking it. 

“It’s nothing to laugh at, Sister. I’ll tell you how 
it happened. Tom Burk and Dan Donavan were try- 
ing to make their goat pull them in a little wagon, 
but she was not able ; they beat her and she fell over 
and shut her eyes. I stooped over her and rubbed 
her head. Then a man came, and after a long wait 
she came to, and he ordered the boys to take poor 
Nanny into the stable.” 

“My dear, kind boy, we will have to make you 
President of the “Prevention of Cruelty Society.” 
Several people have told me what a little champion 
you have shown yourself on many occasions.” 

“Well,” said Amy, “I cannot fight to prevent 
cruelty, but all my life I have prayed for that inten- 
tion. When I pray for a poor over-laden horse or a 
homeless, starved dog, I always say, ‘Dear God, you 
made these creatures, surely you cannot be angry if 
I ask you to have pity on them.” 

[ 133 ] 


BOLAX : 


Mrs. Allen put her head down on the table to 
hide her emotion, but the children thought it was 
because she was shocked at what they had told her 
about the prayers. Amy put both her hands on her 
mother’s arm, saying: “Ma dear, oh, I hope it was 
not a mortal sin! And just to think I never con- 
fessed it ! I never thought it was a sin at all.” 

Here Mrs. Allen raised her head, tears were in her 
eyes. Bolax put his arms around her neck, saying: 
“Dear, dear Ma, is it really so bad a sin as to cause 
you to weep ?” 

“My darlings, bless your dear compassionate 
hearts. I must plead guilty of the very same sin. 
Without ever letting any one know it, since my child- 
hood I have prayed that the cruel driver might have 
mercy on his poor horse; that the starving animals 
might be helped in some way. I prayed that a mercy 
stroke might be given the dying horses on the battle- 
field; that the God of Compassion would have pity 
on the thousands of sheep and cattle who perish 
miserably on the unsheltered plains. Oh, surely our 
prayers are not lost! Many saints were renowned 
for their love of the brute creation ; dear St. Francis 
of Assisi called them his little brothers and sisters. 
So let us hope our dear Lord will not be offended for 
what we have done in a spirit of pity and love for 
His dumb creatures.” 

CRY OF THE LITTLE BROTHERS. 

E. M. Barry. 

We are the little brothers, homeless in cold and heat, 
Four-footed little beggars, roaming the city street, 

[ 134 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Snatching a bone from the gutter, creepin’ thro’ alleys drear, 

Stoned and sworn at and beaten, our hearts consumed with 
fear. 

You pride yourselves on the beauty of your city fair and 
free, 

Yet we are dying by thousands in coverts you never see. 

You boast of your mental progress, of your libraries, schools 
and halls, 

But we who are dumb denounce you as we crouch beneath 
their walls. 

You sit in your tinseled playhouse, and weep o’er a mimic 
wrong, 

Our woes are the woes of the voiceless; our griefs are un- 
heeded in song. 

You say that the same God made us. When before His 
throne you come, 

Shall you clear yourselves in His presence 

On the plea that He made us dumb? 

Are your hearts too hard to listen to a starving kitten’s 
cries, 

Or too gay for the patient pleading in a dog’s beseeching 
eyes? 

Behold us, your little brothers, starving, beaten, oppressed — 

Stretch out a hand to help us that we may have food and 
rest, 

Too long have we roamed neglected, too long have we sick- 
ened with fear, 

The mercy you hope and pray for, you can grant us now and 
here. 


Bolax Goes to the Convent of St. Imelda. 


On July sixth Mrs. Allen took her son to the Con- 
vent, where Reverend Mother Gertrude received 
them cordially, and placed Bolax under the care of 
Sister Joseph, who was to be his special instructress 
for Holy Communion. 


[ 135 ] 


BOLAX: 


For a few days he felt homesick, but soon got over 
it. The good Sisters had always some work or play 
to occupy their pupils, so that time never seemed 
long or lonely to the boys. 

As the school was only eight miles from Midville, 
some one went down every week and all the house- 
hold sent letters to our boy. Reverend Mother gave 
Mrs. Allen an invitation to spend the three days of 
the retreat in the Convent with her children, as 
Amy’s health would not permit her to remain away 
from her mother’s care. 

Convent of St. Imelda. 

Dearest Mother and all at Home: You will be 
glad to know that I am well and happy. My First 
Holy Communion is always in my mind, and I am 
doing all I can to prepare for the great day. I went 
to Confession to the Chaplain Father Drumgool, and 
I will make my General Confession in one week’s 
time. 

Please come down to see me as soon as you get 
this, I want to see you particularly, bring Sister Amy, 
I want Mother Gertrude and the Sisters to see her. 
I make two visits to the Blessed Sacrament every 
day, and beg our Lord to make me worthy to receive 
Him. 

Your loving, son, 

Bolax. 

July 18th. 

My Beloved Son: Yours just received, and oh how 
it gladdens my heart to know you are contented. 

[136] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


I dream of you every night, and my heart longs for 
you, but I know it is best for your soul to be with the 
blessed Sisters. The longer you are In such a heav- 
enly place, the less you will feel like leaving it. I 
look back at my Convent days as the happiest of my 
life. 

Papa has felt less pain in his arm for the last few 
days, so your prayers are being heard already. God 
bless you, darling, and make you a good and sincere 
Catholic. ■ • ■ - i. 

Mamma. 

Offer all your actions, even your play, as so many 
prayers that your First Communion may be a very 
holy one. ' Sister sends her dearest love ; pray that 
she may be able to make her retreat with you at the 
Convent. 

Your loving, 

Mother. 


Home, July 26th. 

My Dear Little Nephew: Your mother was so glad 
to see something belonging to you that she actually 
kissed the bundle of your soiled clothes. Oh, dear 
child ! I wonder if you ever will repay that mother 
for her adoring love of you. All she asks in return 
is, that you will always be a fervent Catholic all the 
days of your life. Don’t disappoint her. 

Several of the boys were here asking for you, but 
we did not explain why you were away, as they 
would not understand about First Holy Communion. 
Elmer came and was so glad to hear of you being in 
the Convent. 


[ 137 ] 


BOLAX : 


Amy and I will be down to see you in a day or two. 
I will then tell all the news, so this letter will have to 
be short. 

Your loving Aunt, 

Lucy Allen. 

Dear Little Master: Wherever you be, do stop for 
a moment and listen to me, while here on this paper 
I try to relate how sad we dogs are; not knowing 
your fate. “Mamma Fan” says you’re dead, that she 
ought to know, for all her three puppies told her so. 

They miss the big giant who came every day to love 
them and squeeze them while she was away. 

Tot went to your room and snuffed all around, 
then he cried very loud, for all that he found was 
just an old shoe, torn inside and out. Oh! said he, 
now I know Bolax’s whereabout, those “Goblins” 
have caught him, cause he wouldn’t “watch out.” 

Your lovingest dog, 

Don. 

My Honey Boy: You’ old Hetty miss you night 
and day. Law! de howse done got so still, even de 
dogs notis it. 

Ef I say you’ name dey looks all round, and den 
dey whynes when they kant find you. 

I’se hopen you is goin’ to get relijon enuff to last 
you de rest of you’ life. Pat sends love, he kant rite, 
so he axed me to rite dat for him. 

You is prayen for me, I no, bekose dat pane I had 
in my bak and my nee, is done gone. 

God bless you, dis is from you’ own old 

Hetty. 

[ 138 ] 


IMP OR AN GEL — WHICH ? 


August 8th. 

Soul of My Heart: Your conduct yesterday 
showed wonderful improvement. 

I noticed your patience on two occasions, then 
your willingness to go without the candy although 
I could see you wanted it. 

All this shows you are learning the Catholic 
spirit of mortification, or, as you will better under- 
stand it ; giving up what is most pleasing to us, and 
bearing with little privations. You are now I hope 
doing all this with good will, as a preparation for 
your First Holy Communion. 

Our Lord will notice each act of self-abnegation 
made for His sake. 

How like Heaven that Convent is. Often in 
dreams I am in my old Convent singing the hymns, 
walking in the “May procession, but most glorious of 
all were the First Communion days. The hymn for 
that day comes back to me now and thrills my heart. 

O saint Autel qu’environent les Anges ! 

Qu’ avec transport, aujourd ’hui je te vois, 

Ici mon Dieu Tobjet de mes louanges, 

Vient dans mon coeur, pour la premiere fois. 

O darling; how I would love to shield you from 
all the trials of the world. O offer myself to our 
Lord as a victim ; to do with me what He will, send 
me any cross or trial, no matter how hard to bear, if 
only He receives my children among His chosen ones 
and secures their eternal salvation. 

Be very attentive to all the instructions you re- 
ceive, and do all in your power to make a perfect 
preparation for the great grace you will receive. 

[ 139 ] 


BOLAX : 


O my beloved ! in after years, when troubled with 
worldly cares, it will be a consolation to look back on 
these days of holiness and peace. Thoughts of them 
will come upon you, long after the heart that dic- 
tates these words of love shall have ceased to throb, 
and the hand that pens them shall be — dust. 

Mamma. * 

St. Xavier's Collge. 

Dear Little Friend: I congratulate you sincerely 
on your happy privilege of receiving our Lord. It 
is a good thing on this occasion to make good reso- 
lutions, but you must not rest satisfied with making 
them, you must turn all the energy of your will to 
keeping them exactly as you made them. 

It is not right to pledge one’s word to God, and 
afterwards take no pains to carry out the promise. 
If you promised a boy of your own age something 
and then neglected your word, the boy would despise 
you. 

It is much worse to treat God with neglect. I do 
hope that after your First Holy Communion you will 
strive hard to overcome your defects, to correct the 
faults that your Mother notices in you. 

That you will endeavor to give the greatest satis- 
faction to your parents is our Lord’s wish, and mine. 
They have labored so much for you, suffered so 
much; your mother especially, they have had so 
much trouble with you when you were a helpless 
infant, that it would be the greatest ingratitude now, 
when you are able, not to seek to give them pleasure 
and comfort. 


[ 140 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Another reason for paying the closest attention to 
what your parents say is that they are your best 
friends, all they want from you is for your good ; so 
if you are docile and obedient you will become a 
good man, and not one that we should be ashamed 
of in after life. 

Say your prayers every evening, renew your good 
resolutions every morning, and promise to obey in 
everything, and I am sure you will become a good 
man. 

Your friend in Christ, 

Aloysius Rocofort, S. J. 

Marquette College, August 14th. 
Master Bolax Allen. 

My Dear Little Friend: Your letter has given me 
a great deal of pleasure. At first I could not think 
who was writing; then I remembered you are the 
boy who wished I might live a hundred years. So 
this is the eve of your First Holy Communion ! 

Well dear, you have my best prayers that your 
heart may be adorned with all the virtues that will 
make it worthy of so great a grace. 

You write a nice letter, just the kind Claude used 
to write. I hope you will love your religion and hate 
sin as did little Claude Lightfoot. 

Your friend in Christ, 

F. J. Finn, S. J. 

On August 12th the children’s Retreat opened, 
Mrs. Allen and Amy took the train in the morning 
so as to arrive at St. Imelda’s before noon. Their 
[141] 


BOLAX: 


first visit was to the Chapel, then Sister Joseph con- 
ducted them over the house and grounds. Bolax iu- 
sisted on showing the “Most beautiful cows in the 
world,” as he termed the well-kept Convent herd. 

The Retreat opened at four in the afternoon, with 
Rosary and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. 

The order of exercises were Holy Mass at half past 
six. Then breakfast. A walk in the grounds; spir- 
itual reading, Stations of the Cross, not the prayers 
in books, but some story told at each station, then an 
act of contrition, and a prayer for the holy souls. 

After dinner Bo was asked to help Sister Martha 
to weed the garden and gather vegetables, so that he 
might join work to prayer. He was delighted to 
think he could be of use, but, of course, the dear 
sister only wanted to give him occupation, that he 
might not feel the silence of the retreat too monoto- 
nous. 

Amy made many visits to the Blessed Sacrament, 
indeed she would have remained hours in the Chapel 
if allowed. Mrs. Allen read interesting and instruc- 
tive spiritual books, especially one by Pere Borda- 
lou on the “Last Supper.” This she read every day, 
because she was anxious that it should be deeply 
engraven on her children’s minds and hearts. 

After the evening meal some of the Sisters would 
sit with the family under the trees in the garden, or 
walk about the beautiful grounds. One day Amy 
pointed to a bed of lilies of the valley, saying : “Sis- 
ter, when I die I want to be buried under those 
lilies.” “My darling,” exclaimed her mother, 
startled by the earnest manner of the child, “don’t 
[ 142 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


talk of dying, what would I ever do without my little 
daughter. Oh, no, my precious, our Lord will surely 
spare you to help me, besides you know, you are your 
father’s guardian angel. I depend on your prayers, 
particularly for his conversion.” 

Lucy and Mr. Allen were anxious to be present at 
the ceremony on the fifteenth of August, but there 
was no hotel in the vicinity of the Convent and no 
train could be had from Midville at so early an hour. 

Mother Gertrude said, Miss Lucy could come to 
the Convent, then she went to see one of her friends, 
a Mrs. O’Donnell, who lived a short walk from the 
Convent gate ; this lady gladly offered to receive Mr. 
Allen for the night, so both father and aunt had the 
pleasure of being present at the ceremony in the 
morning. 

The Feast of the Assumption was celebrated with 
unusual splendor at St. Imelda’s. Five little girls 
renewed their First Communion, dressed in white 
and wearing wreaths and veils. Amy’s costume was 
very plain, but spotlessly white and new ; her mother 
did not approve of dressing children in finery for so 
sacred a function, lest thoughts of their outward 
appearance should divert their mind from the holy 
act they were about to perform. 

Mr. Allen and kind Mrs. Donald were at the 
Chapel door just as the Angelus bell was ringing; 
they were ushered into a seat by one of the Sisters. At 
ten minutes of six the organ played a grand prelude 
and all the Sisters and children sang: “Jesus, My 
Love, is Mine Today.” 

It was a most impressive scene; the soft, solemn 
music, the devout attention of the children, even the 
[ 143 ] 


BOLAX: 


little boys so still and respectful. 

Mr. Allen had never before witnessed such devout 
worship. 

When the time came to approach the altar, Rev- 
erend Mother led the children to the communion rail, 
while the choir sang soft and low, “Come Into My 
Heart, Dear Jesus, Come.” 

Little Amy looked so white and seemed to tremble. 

The priest stood with the Sacred Host in his 
hands; slowly and with evident emotion, repeating 
the “Domine non sum dignus.” 

The children then returned to their seats with 
hands joined and eyes cast down; Amy’s cheeks, 
which had been so pale were now delicately colored. 
There was such a transformation. It seemed that a 
smile from heaven played around her lips, to give 
them angelic grace. 

After Mass the children were clasped in their 
parents’ arms, and all the sisters and friends con- 
gratulated them on their happiness. 

In taking leave Mr. Allen thanked the Reverend 
Mother most heartily for her kindness to his family 
and expressed himself as being “almost conquered.” 

Mrs. Allen remained with her children for the after- 
noon services, which were: The renovation of the 
Baptismal vows, Benediction of the Blessed Sacra- 
ment and a short sermon. 


The Chaplain’s Address to the First 
Communicants. 

Dear children I do not intend speaking to you of 
Faith. I am sure yours is firm and sincere. I come 
[ 144 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


only to remind you of your promises made to our 
blessed Lord this morning, to ask you to fill your 
hearts to overflowing with love. Love for our merci- 
ful Jesus in all stages of His life and death, but par- 
ticularly love for Him in the divine Sacrament. 

Love makes all things easy ! so dear children, never 
tire asking the Blessed Mother of Jesus to give you of 
the love which filled her heart, that yours may ever 
be adorned with the virtues which will make it a fit 
abiding place for your merciful and sweet Saviour. 

Love for Jesus will give you patience to bear with 
the contradictions and crosses you meet with; even 
little children have crosses. They may be repri- 
manded for a fault which another committed; bear 
the reproof patiently for the love of Jesus; a com- 
panion may be harsh and unjust towards you, be glad 
that you have something to suffer for love of Jesus. 
A bouquet of sacrifices to offer at the end of each 
day, will be more acceptable than if it were the most 
exquisite flowers culled from your gardens. 

Dearest children come as often as you can to the 
Holy Table, don’t be afraid — don’t think of your un- 
worthiness, no one ever was entirely worthy of Holy 
Communion, except the Blessed Mother of Jesus. 

Come! I say, eat this heavenly bread that you 
may be strong to resist all temptations, that you may 
learn to love our Lord devotedly on earth, so as to be 
prepared for an eternity of love in Heaven. 


[ 145 ] 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Unforseen Events. 

After all the exercises had been performed, Mrs. 
Allen and the children bade farewell to the Sisters, 
and Reverend Mother gave them a pressing invita- 
tion to visit the Convent often. 

When our friends reached Midville Station, Papa 
Allen was waiting for them with the carriage, which 
soon brought them to “Home, Sweet Home/’ as Bo 
sung out, when he saw Aunt Lucy, Uncle Dick and 
Hetty standing at the gate. 

Bo hugged every one, including Don, when that, too 
demonstrative beast gave him a chance to notice any 
one but his own dogship. 

Uncle Dick declared he never again would com- 
plain of noise for “the house has been like a desert 
without our harum-scarum.” 

Amy and her brother kept together as much as 
possible during the remainder of the summer. The 
pony chaise was in demand every afternoon, and the 
children always invited a few of their friends to 
enjoy a drive with them. 

One day Mrs. Allen filled a basket with roses, 
which she gave to Amy, saying: “I wonder if you 
and Bolax wouldn’t like to take these up to Grandma 
Barton.” Allie Thornton, who was present, asked: 
“Is she your real Grandma?” “Oh, no,” answered 
Amy ; “she is a poor old lady, nearly blind, to whom 
Mamma sends things ; we love to go to see her.” “Let 
[ 146 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


me carry the basket to the chaise; it feels quite 
heavy/’ remarked Estelle. 

“Very likely Mamma has placed a pot of jelly 
under the flowers,” said Amy. “My mother says that 
when we bestow a gift we make it doubly acceptable 
by giving it in a graceful manner. This old lady has 
no relatives to look after her, she has a son, but she 
does not know where he is. Mamma says it is pitiful 
to hear the poor soul talk of that son, how she prays 
for him and hopes he will come back to her before she 
becomes entirely helpless.” “I just hope God will 
punish that son!” exclaimed Bo. “Father Anthony 
says anyone who is cruel to his parents will have no 
luck in this world and be everlastingly punished in 
the next. “Dear brother, don’t hope evil for any one, 
rather let us pray that the heartless son may be in- 
spired to think of his dear old mother and return to 
her.” Just here a bend of the road brought them 
upon a little cottage of the romantic order, over- 
grown with woodbine, in which Grandma had a room. 
The dear old lady greeted the children heartily, 
thanking them for the flowers. “Take seats, my 
dears ; oh, not there child, that is Velvet Ear’s chair,” 
and Bolax sprang aside just in time to save himself 
from sitting upon a tiny skye-terrier. 

“Are you well this morning?” asked Amy. “Oh, 
very well, dear,” answered Grandma. 

After a few more pleasant remarks the children bid 
good-bye, then getting into the cart drove leisurely 
along the road. 

Suddenly there was a thunder clap, and a dark 
cloud appeared where the sun had shone a moment 
before. 


[ 147 ] 


BOLAX: 


“Drive as fast as you can, Brother ; I fear we will 
be drenched !” while she was speaking, the rain 
poured down. Bo knowing how easily his sister took 
cold, divested himself of his jacket and put it around 
her. “Ben Bolt” seemed to take in the situation and 
got up a speed he had never before shown. When 
they reached home all were soaked. Estelle laughed 
about her plight, but Bo hurried his sister into the 
house, where his mother and aunt soon had her in a 
warm bath, then to bed with a cup of hot lemonade, 
hoping thus to ward off the consequences of such a 
severe drenching. 

In a few days Amy began to cough. Dr. Carroll 
looked serious when asked if the cough would last 
long. 

In ten days the child grew rapidly worse, and Mrs. 
Allen sent for her husband, who was on one of his 
Western trips. He came home to find his little 
daughter so ill, that her life was almost despaired 
of. Bravely the doctors fought against the dread dis- 
ease which they feared would end fatally, although 
they managed to ward off the danger for a time. 

The Sisters came up from the Convent to see the 
dear child and try to console her father and mother. 

We will have all our children and sisters pray if it 
be God’s will to spare your beloved one. 

Amy’s Death. 

It is a sweet October morning, a tender mist, gray 
in the distance, rose-colored and golden where the 
rays of light strike it more directly, envelopes the 

landscape; the trees are decked in holiday attire 

green, russet, orange and scarlet. 

[ 148 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


On a couch placed near the window reclines the 
meek patient sufferer. Aunt Lucy stands near, Hetty 
kneels beside her “baby” with a cup of beef tea trying 
to coax her to swallow a few spoonfuls. 

“Hetty, dear, don’t force me, I am not hungry.” 
“My blessed angel do take just a few drops for your 
old Hetty.” 

Amy heeded not, her thoughts were far away. 
“Auntie,” she remarked, “isn’t that woods like a 
piece of Heaven? See how the trees glisten as the 
sun shines on their waving branches. How glorious 
Heaven must be when earth is so filled with beauty.” 

Aunt Lucy looked into the ethereal face, and un- 
bidden tears coursed down her cheeks. 

Hetty stooped over the wan little hand, and kissing 
it, hastened from the room, her heart bursting with 
grief. In the kitchen she met old Pat, his head bowed 
and his whole bearing showing the depth of his grief 
for what all now saw was inevitable. 

“Hetty,” said he in a hoarse whisper, “is she 
going?” “Oh, Pat, I feel dis is de last day we will 
have our angel child. Dey done telephoned for Dr. 
Carroll, he will be here directly.” 

At two o’clock the doctor told the assembled house- 
hold, that but a few hours of life remained for the 
dear one. 

At three o’clock death with “solemn steps and 
slow,” is steadily approaching. Now her voice, which 
before has been scarcely above a whisper, becomes 
strong again, as is frequently the case in the dying, 
and she tries to sing in the old sweet way: “Jesus, 
Jesus, Dearest Lord.” 


[ 149 ] 


BOLAX : 


It seems as though the angels were present, 
Heaven so fills the room. 

After a moment’s rest she turned her eyes on the 
weeping company, and said: “Don’t weep for me, 
rather rejoice that I will soon be with Our Dear 
Lord and His Blessed Mother. Mamma, dear, say 
that beautiful prayer that ends with — ‘Merciful 
Jesus have mercy on me.’ ” 

“Mamma, dear, you will come to me in Heaven. 
There will be no parting, we will walk together 
through the golden streets, and through the beautiful 
gardens forever. Come, kiss me now, daring mother !” 

Then she addressed Mr. Allen, who stood with 
great tear-drops rolling down his face, his heart 
broken with sorrow. 

“Dear Papa, how I love you ! You have been such 
a loving father to me and Brother, so good to dear 
Mamma — Forgive my having tried your patience so 
often.” 

“Heart’s dearest,” answered her father, “you have 
never caused me a moment of trouble in all your 
life.” 

“Darling Papa you will come to me when Our 
Lord calls you. I know you love Him. Father 
Leonard will show you the true way to reach 
Heaven ; O promise me you will follow it.” 

“My angel child,” responded the father, “I 
solemnly promise.” His sobs choked his utterance, 
but kneeling and taking his child’s hand he kissed it 
fervently. 

Exhausted by her efforts, she lay silent awhile, 
then turning to Bolax, she said: “Dear little 
Brother, never forget the promises you made to Our 
[ 150 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Lord the day of your First Holy Communion. Oh, 
serve Him faithfully that you may meet me in Para- 
dise. 

Dearest Aunt Lucy, I thank you for all your years 
of kindness and love ; oh, I know you will be there to 
rejoice with me. 

And Hetty dear ! let me kiss the hand that nursed 
and tended me so faithfully.” 

Hetty’s grief was becoming uncontrollable, so she 
hastened from the room lest she should unnerve the 
rest of the family. 

Poor old Pat was not forgotten, when called to bid 
farewell, he managed to control himself while he 
knelt asking the dear child’s blessing. 

Here Reverend Father Leonard entered the room. 
Mrs. Allen lit the candles on the little altar at the 
foot of the bed; all withdrew for a few moments 
leaving Amy alone with the Priest. 

When the Father was ready to administer the 
Holy Viaticum, every one returned to the room, each 
bearing a lighted candle, knelt in prayer. After 
receiving Our Dear Lord, the child’s face became 
radiant ; a heavenly smile lit up her countenance, she 
murmured: “Jesus, precious Jesus; how I love 
Thee! and yet — how — unworthy I am!” Here she 
held out her hands as if beckoning to some one. “O 

my beloved! take me to Thyself! Jes ” The lips 

ceased their utterance with the sweet name half 
spoken. One long-drawn sigh and another angel was 
added to the innumerable company of the Blessed. 
The days that followed Amy’s death were to the 
household painful in the extreme. 

[ 151 ] 


BOLAX : 


Mr. Allen was overwhelmed with grief. It was 
useless to try to speak to him ; for two days he shut 
himself in his room and the Doctor could scarcely 
persuade him to take nourishment. 

Mrs. Allen was resigned to God’s will, although 
her heart was crushed with sorrow. 

Kind neighbors came offering condolence, indeed 
the family had the sympathy of the whole village. 

Reverend Mother Gertrude sent a letter by two of 
her Sisters reminding Mrs. Allen of Amy’s desire to 
be buried under the Bed of Lilies. 

“We are sure now,” said the Sisters, “the dear 
child had a presentment of her approaching depar- 
ture from this world, so Reverend Mother begs you 
will have the funeral from our Chapel and let the 
dear one rest under the Lilies of the Valley.” 

Reverend Father Leonard was consulted as to the 
advisability of accepting Mother Gertrude’s gracious 
offer; Mrs. Allen feared her pastor might wish the 
funeral to take place in the parish church. “On the 
contrary,” said the good priest, “I think no resting 
place could be more fitting for such a child than a 
grave where the rays of the Sanctuary Lamp shine 
out upon it through the Church windows. I shall go 
to St. Imelda’s and ask to be allowed to celebrate 
the Mass, which must be what we call the “Mass of 
the Angels.” 

The funeral was announced for Thursday morn- 
ing, carriages were to leave the house at half-past 
eight, so as to reach the Convent in time for the 
services at half-past nine. The Chapel was draped 
in white, all the flowers and ornaments on the altar 
and the vestments were white. 

[ 152 ] 








































w 
































to 
































» 















































Aunt Lucy 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Professor Renaldi’s pupils, who were in the same 
class as Amy, presented a beautiful harp of white 
rosebuds, with the word “Love” formed of Forget- 
Me-Nots woven across the strings. 

The Chapel could scarcely contain the number of 
people who came to pay a last tribute of love to the 
dear child. 

The gates of the Sanctuary were left open and the 
casket placed in front of the altar as near the rail as 
possible. 

During the Mass the music was almost joyous. 
Reverend Mother ordered this expressly so that the 
bereaved parents might be soothed in their grief. 

Six little girls dressed in white walked beside the 
casket as it was borne to the grave, and now our 
dear, our beloved one sleeps under the Lilies, emble- 
matic of her own pure soul. 

Funeral Sermon. 

Dear Friends, I need not tell you who is she over 
whom we weep today. You well remember little 
Amy, who only a few months ago knelt at this altar 
to receive Our Lord for the first time. 

Like St. Imelda her heart and soul were absorbed 
in love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. On the 
night of the day Amy made her First Communion, 
her mother heard her crying and sobbing in her bed. 
When asked what could cause such grief, she 
answered: “O, Mother, this was the happiest day 
of my life, and I grieve because it is ended.” 

This child was especially loved by God. Graceful 
in form, lovely in feature, and in innocence of heart 
[ 153 ] 


BOLAX: 


an angel, she seemed like some bright heavenly spirit 
lent for a time to the world to light up God’s love 
in it. 

There was about Amy a spiritual refinement — a 
looking forward to the things that are to come, a 
sweetly sad yearning towards Jesus, the object of 
her young heart’s pure love. 

Our Lord was jealous of the possession of so pure 
a soul, and before its loveliness might be tarnished 
by any fault incident to human frailty, he called her 
from earth to place her near His Sacred Heart for 
eternity. 

Amy’s whole life seemed to tend to one point, 
namely to love God above all things and in all things ; 
she knew that without God’s love man is not fulfill- 
ing his destiny, he is astray on a pathless waste — a 
ship on a storm-tossed sea, without helm and with- 
out hope. 

Will you ask me how the dear one died? Think 
how she lived. A happy holy death closed a happy 
innocent life. 

It was my sad duty to attend her during her last 
illness. I have seen many persons die, but among 
them all, Amy shone out pre-eminently for her resig- 
nation to God’s will. 

She was often heard praying in subdued tones, 
when intense pain assailed her : “O Holy Mother of 
Jesus, help me to bear my sufferings with patience, 
in union with those your Divine Son endured for me 
when dying on the cross.” 

Raising his hands and eyes to Heaven, the Priest 
prayed : 


[ 154 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


“Dear Angel child! we look up to you on this 
bright day, crowned in Heaven with a fadeless 
crown, pray for those you have left behind to mourn. 
If earth has lost an angel, Heaven has gained one. 
If we have been deprived of a dear affectionate 
daughter and sister, we have gained a blessed inter- 
cessor before God’s Holy Throne in the glory of 
Paradise.” 

After the funeral Mr. Allen started for a business 
trip to St. Louis. The Doctor said it was best he 
should go rather than remain where everything 
reminded him of the beloved one and gave him a 
heart-pang. 

Winter passed quietly, when Christmas came it 
was celebrated as a peaceful holy day; every one 
tried to be cheerful, but there was a “minor in the 
carol — a spray of Cypress twining ’mid the holly 
wreaths. 

On the first day of March a quiet wedding took 
place in the family, when dear Aunt Lucy became the 
wife of our beloved Doctor Carroll, to the great 
delight of Bolax and all the family, especially Hetty, 
“who always knowed dat weddin’ done had to be.” 

Mrs. Allen begged that the “Honey-moon” trip 
should not be prolonged, as she could not spare her 
sister, so in three weeks’ time the bride and groom 
returned to reside permanently in the old homestead. 

One day in April, Bolax surprised every one by 
returning from school early in the morning, having 
been ordered home on account of scarlet fever, which 
had suddenly broken out at St. Thomas’. 

Later in the day the President telephoned to Mrs. 

[ 155 ] 


BOLAX : 


Allen telling her that there were fifteen cases in the 
house, the disease having been brought in by a day 
pupil. “It will necessitate our closing the classes 
for the season, and will entail a serious loss to the 
College.” 

So Bolax had to study as best he could at home 
with the assistance of Mamma and Uncle Carroll. 


[ 156 ] 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Bolax Gobs to College. 

For several winters Mr. Allen had suffered from 
severe grippe colds, each year his system seemed less 
able to resist the attacks, so Dr. Carroll prescribed 
a winter in Florida, saying that it was an absolute 
necessity both for his health and as a complete rest 
from business, to which he had been a slave. 

Mrs. Allen and the whole family held a consulta- 
tion as to what should be done with Bolax while they 
were in Florida. 

“I want to board at St. Thomas’, Papa; the boys 
have such fun, I know I’d have a good time there; I 
was the youngest day scholar last year and all the 
seniors liked me.” 

“My dear child,” said his father, “if fun be all 
your aim in boarding at a college, you can have all 
you want of that at home at less cost. I fear there 
is too much of your Tun’ going on in our colleges 
and very little solid education.” 

“That’s just what I’ve been thinking,” observed 
Mrs. Allen, “and I’ve made up my mind to send 
Bolax to my uncle, who is President of the College 
at L’Islet, Canada; that is, my dear, if you don’t 
object.” 

“I do most emphatically object to having my son 
go so far from home.” 

“But,’ ’argued Mrs. Allen, “the boy will be better 
cared for under the patronage of a relative than he 
would be in the most expensive of our Colleges here. 

[ 157 ] 


BOLAX: 


My uncle has frequently written to me, telling of the 
excellent methods and strict discipline of his school, 
which he has placed under the care of Christian 
Brothers.” 

As they were speaking, Dr. Carroll and Lucy came 
into the room. 

“What would you advise about our boy, Doctor ?” 
asked Mr. Allen. 

“On what subject?” said the Doctor. 

“We are thinking of placing Bolax at college, and 
his mother wants to send him to her uncle in 
Canada.” 

“Canada is very far away,” objected Aunt Lucy, 
“why not let him remain with us, as we are to live in 
your house during your absence.” 

“Now, Lucy, you ought to think it high time that a 
boy nearly thirteen years of age should be above 
coddling,” remarked the Doctor, “that is what you 
and Hetty have done all his life and it is time to stop 
it. The boy is not working up to his ability here. 
Composition and music are the only branches in 
which he receives a high average, these require little 
or no exertion on his part, but in all other studies 
his average is low. I really feel a change would 
benefit him, we might make the trial, should it prove 
unsatisfactory, it will be easy to take him home 
again.” 

After debating for and against the Canadian 
project, Mr. Allen was at last persuaded to give his 
consent, and preparations were made for Bo’s trip to 
Canada. Boy-like he was elated at the idea of travel- 
ing, especially when he heard he was to undertake 
the journey alone. When he told his companions 
[ 158 ] 



Bolax when he went to College. 











































IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


about it, they opened their eyes in amazement, and 
some of their mothers wondered how such a harum- 
scarum could be trusted so far on the trains. 

“Mamma, can’t I give a farewell spread for my 
chums?” “Yes, dear; have them all here on Friday 
evening. I will get up a nice supper, and Uncle 
Carroll will show his magic lantern with moving 
pictures.” “Oh, bully for you Ma, dear.” “Bully!” 
What did I say about slang, my child?” “Oh, Ma, 
dear, all the fellows at St. Thomas’ use those words, 
you’ve got to have something to say when you are 
pleased, or mad, or surprised — one dear old priest 
up there says ‘Thunder and mud !’ when a boy gives 
a particularly stupid answer at a recitation.” 

“Oh, well, my son, that is just a funny expression. 
I don’t mind your adopting it, since as you say, you 

must have some ‘expressions.’ ” 

********** 

The last evening at home had come. Bo’s trunk 
was packed and the family had assembled in the 
dining room to have a nice old-fashioned supper. 
Their boy was going away, but the grand harmony of 
the evening was not destroyed. Uncle Carroll sang 
merry songs, Aunt Lucy played on her guitar, Bolax 
gave his best pieces on the piano, in fact, they had a 
regular concert. 

Somehow, Bolax felt that he had never loved his 
parents as he did now ; he thought his mother’s face 
so matronly, yet so gentle, was the sweetest face he 
ever saw. He bid “good night quite bravely, but 
found it hard to suppress his sobs as he clung to his 
mother’s neck, for our light-hearted boy was tender 
and loving as a girl. 


[ 159 ] 


BOLAX: 


Early next morning the house was astir. Hetty 
packed a basket of lunch filled with everything she 
knew the boy liked. Farewells were spoken, the 
carriage drove up and Mr. Allen accompanied his 
son to New York, where he placed him on the train 
bound for Quebec. 

L’Islet, P. Q., Canada, September 15th. 

My Dear Papa: I hope you are well, and that 
business will soon steer towards prosperity. When 
you left me in the car, I had to wait about three 
minutes, then I felt the train start. 

As it gained speed, we darted through about fifty 
little tunnels, and between stone walls. 

When we got into Connecticut, we passed a series 
of little bays, which I afterwards found out were 
the inlets of the sound. We made our first stop at 
Meriden, where a crowd of New England girls got 
on the train; they wore neat golf suits and carried 
golf sticks. I thought how nice Cousin Madge 
would look in such clothes. None of them were 
pretty, but all were as neat as new pins. All along 
the railroad was to be seen “ads” of pills, bicycles, 
soap and sarsaparilla. 

As we pulled into Hartford, we passed the Pope 
Manufacturing Company, but it does not resemble 
the fine pictures they have in their “ads.” 

I only got out of the seat you put me into once, 
and that was to get a drink. When I got into 
Springfield, that baggage man was nowhere to be 
found, neither was the conductor, so I gave the 
brakeman the cigars you left for them. 

* [160] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH? 


The brakeman then took me to the conductor of 
the Pullman car; this fellow looked the image of me, 
only taller, and he greeted me heartily when he 
found that I was to be in his charge. 

I bought sandwiches here, and it’s lucky I did, as 
the roast chicken Mamma put up for me, only did for 
one meal ; it was so good, I could’nt stop eating once 
I began it. 

When I got on the train, it was made up of one 
baggage, two day and three sleeping coaches, but 
when I awoke in the morning, or really in the night, 
to my surprise I found that we had changed from 
the middle to the end of the train. Now, for the inci- 
dents of the night. About 9.30 P. M. I got Billy, the 
porter, to make up my birth and I went to sleep after 
a hard tussle with the rough sheets and blanket. At 
one o’clock, I was dreaming of home and of mother, 
as the song says, when all of a sudden I heard our 
village fire whistle blow — I jumped out of bed, and 
then found to my disappointment that I was five 
hundred miles from home in a Pullman sleeper that 
had bumped into something, and every one was mak- 
ing a racket enough to wake the dead. We got an- 
other engine after twenty minutes solo, and con- 
tinued our journey through the high mountains of 
Vermont. I dozed again and when I awoke, day- 
light was just peeping out from the east; the frost 
was on every blade of grass and on every rail and 
tie; the trees seemed to draw the steam from the 
engine with their leaves, and then it became a thin 
veil of frost; thus while standing on the back plat- 
form at 4.50 A. M., I could see our route for miles 
and miles, winding and meandering through the 
[161] 


BOLAX : 


forests of the Pine Tree State. 

We passed beautiful lakes by the half dozen, flew 
over high trestle bridges, that look as if scarcely 
able to bear the weight of the train. I saw cow- 
protectors at several crossings, these when the cow 
tries to cross the rails, split its hoof and she has to 
“back.” 

When we reached Sherbrook, I amused myself 
standing on the back platform, pretending I was 
“Bryan” and posing for the admiration of a crowd 
of boys who were at the station. When we were 
starting again, there was a bump and a crash; I 
looked out, but all I could see was a smashed tool 
box and tools scattered in every direction. 

The porter was in the baggage car when they 
opened trunks, he told the Inspector I was going to 
school and to let my trunks pass, which he did. 

As we neared the end of our journey, I was the 
only passenger in the Pullman car, so the con- 
ductor and the brakeman took me into a little 
station to get breakfast. My, but it was good! It 
was composed of tender beefsteak, fine coffee, the 
kind only French people know how to make, pota- 
toes, bread and butter. I handed the waiter fifty 
cents, which was the price, and cheap at that, to my 
surprise, he gave me back a quarter. It appears the 
little French conductor told the proprietor I was 
his brother, then he shook hands with me, and if I 
hadn’t laughed, he might have believed the con- 
ductor and given me back the other quarter. 

When the train started again, the Frenchman, who 
had charge of me, called me “old boy” (he didn’t 
mean the devil, of course), and he asked me if l 
[ 162 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


wanted to ride on the engine, I accepted his offer 
and rode a hundred miles on it. 

I arrived safely at Levis (as my telegram stated) 
after passing under several long snow sheds. 

The train pulled up slowly and I had a splendid 
view of the grand old fort of Quebec. It reminds 
me of the pictures I see of the rock of Gibraltar, 
only that it has a wall with holes in it for cannon. 
I passed out into snow sheds again, which brought 
me to L’Islet, where a Christian Brother met me 
with a team; he got my trunk, which had faith- 
fully followed me all the way. We then started for 
the College, which is about two miles from the 
station. 

My studies so far are English, Latin, French, 
Commercial Arithmetic, “The Duties of a Christian 
Towards God.” This is a book used as a reader. Our 
pleasures at this season are football (played with 
feet only), baseball, tennis, and those games I men- 
tioned in my letter to Mamma. 

I have had only one fight, and I was brave, as you 
told me to be, so I licked the fellow. I have made 
ten good friends and two enemies, but the enemies 
are big “Nits,” they can hit hard, but don’t know 
how to “guard.” 

I am glad Dr. Carroll gave me boxing lessons last 
winter ; they will be useful to me now. 

I go to Mass every morning. Tell this to Mamma. 
Give my love to the following friends : 

Professor Rinaldi, Mrs. Carpenter and family, 
especially Mr. Charlie and Sam; Hetty and Pat, all 
the seven boys who were my chums — Elmer Mullen, 
and the Priests at St. Thomas’ College, Colonel 
[ 163 ] 


BOLAX: 


O’Brian, Darling Mamma, Aunt Lucy, Uncles Dick 
and Carroll, and all the friends I have left in dear 
old Midville. 

Excuse writing; I have spent two hours on this 
letter and I’m dead tired of it. 

Your loving son, 

Bolax Allen. 


Answer to Bolax’s first letter : 


September. 

My Dear Son: Your letter is most interesting, 
those of our friends who do not know that composi- 
tion is your fort, were inclined to believe it was the 
production of your teachers. Mr. Thornton published 
it in his journal, of which I send you a copy. He 
predicts you will be an editor some day. I tell you 
this to encourage you; praise is due to him who 
honestly deserves it. 

But, dear, we know composition requires no effort 
on your part. Now try to excel in what does 
require effort, your chirography and arithmetic, for 
instance. There is an old Latin proverb which says, 
“Patient industry is worth more than lazy talent,” 
meaning that your talent and ability will amount to 
nothing if you do not work. 

Mamma and Aunt Lucy are sending such long let- 
ters, so you won’t mind if mine is short. God bless 
you, my dear son. 

Your affectionate, 

Father. 


[ 164 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


LTslet, P. Q., September. 

Dearly Beloved Home Folks: I have passed the 
examination and have not been placed in the highest 
class. That old arithmetic is the cause. Then, I 
know almost nothing about Latin or French, but I 
mean to work in earnest. 

Mamma, I did not hear you say your uncle was a 
priest. He has been pastor of the church for thirty 
years. His hair is white as snow and he always 
wears a long black robe belted at the waist, with 
large beads at his side. When walking out, his head 
is covered with a wide-brimmed hat. I think he 
looks like the priest in Longfellow’s Evangeline. He 
is very kind to me and says I look exactly as you did 
when a child. 

There are two funerals here each month; every 
window in the Church is draped in black on these 
occasions, and all the ornaments on the altar covered 
with mourning. But, Ma, dear ! you should hear the 
“Chanteurs” that sing at the Mass for the dead. 
They are four old men with cracked voices. The first 
time I heard them, it was so awful that I really 
thought their shouting and squeaking was done pur- 
posely to scare away the devil from the corpse. 

On Sundays the College boys sing in the choir; if 
1 only could read Latin, I could serve Mass and sing 
too. Latin is used more than French in saying 
prayers. 

The College grounds slope down to the St. Law- 
rence, the river is very wide and beautiful, islands dot 
its surface. We have three large rowboats and a sail- 
ing yacht. I am well pleased with everything so 
[ 165 ] 


BOLAX: 


far, except the “grub.” I miss Hetty’s cooking, but 
I don’t starve and am just as fat as ever. 

With all the love of my heart and soul, I am, 
Forever yours, 

Bolax Allen. 

Fun in the Dormitories. 

George Fulton, an “American boy,” as they desig- 
nated those who had come from the “States,” was 
always talking of the fun he had when at boarding 
school near home. One day he called together six 
friends whom he could trust: “Say you French fel- 
lows ; you’re too tame,” said George. “You ought to 
see the fun we had in the dormitories at the school I 
went to in the ‘States.’ Tonight the Brothers hold a 
special council, they will meet in the Chapel, which 
being on the other side of the Campus, will prevent 
their hearing us if we have a little ‘Shindig’ in our 
dormitory.” “What’s a ‘Shindig,’ ” asked Leonce de 
Vean. “Something you knock de shins?” “Ha, ha, 
you little French Crapeaud. I forgot you kids don’t 
understand English slang,, but you’ll see what it is 
tonight.” 

As he was entering the Study Hall, Bolax saw 
Harrison and laughingly told him there was to be an 
awful “lark” in the dormitory. “We’re going to have 
no end of fun.’ “Are you?” said Harrison. “W r ell 
if it gets amusing, come to my room and tell me, and 
I’ll go down and look on.” 

It was Brother Isadore’s night on duty. He walked 
slowly up and down the range of the dormitories 
until every boy seemed ready to get into bed, then he 
put out all the candles (there was no gas to be had and 
[ 166 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


the Brothers would not trust coal-oil lamps to boys). 
So long as they were under surveillance, the boys 
observed the utmost quiet and decorum. All con- 
tinued in order until Brother Isadore passed out 
through the lavatory, one of the boys following him 
as a scout, had seen the last glimmer of his hand- 
lamp disappear around the corner at the foot of the 
staircase, and heard the library door close behind 
him. 

After that, as Brother Director was obliged to pre- 
side at the Council, the boys knew they were safe 
from disturbance, and the occupants of the large 
dormitory were the first to stir. 

“Now for some fun,” said George, starting up, and 
by the way of initiative, pitching his pillow at 
Bolax’s head. 

“I’ll pay you for that when I’m ready,” said Bo, 
laughing, “but let us light a few candles first; how- 
ever, it’s bright moonlight, maybe we had better not 
light up, some one outside might notice our illumi- 
nation.” 

Several fellows from the dormitory came on the 
scene with their scones lit, these they placed so as 
not to show through the windows. Then the boys 
began all sorts of amusements, some in their night 
shirts, others with their trousers slipped on. Leap- 
frog was the prevalent game for the time, but at last 
Henry de la Tour suggested theatricals, and they 
were agreed on. 

“But we’re making a regular knock-me-down shin- 
dig,” said Fulton, “somebody must keep guard.” 

“Oh, old Brother Isadore is safe enough in the 
[ 167 ] 


BOLAX : 


Chapel; no fear of disturbing him if we were danc- 
ing Jim Crow/’ answered Bolax. 

However it was considered safest to put some one 
at the top of the stairs in case of an unexpected 
diversion in that direction, and little Leonce con- 
sented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory 
door open and stand at the top of the staircase, then 
he commanded for a great distance the only avenue 
in which danger was expected. 

If any Brother’s lamp appeared in the hall, the 
boys had full three minutes’ warning and a single 
loudly whispered “cache-cache” would cause them to 
“lay low,” so that by the time of their adversary’s 
arrival they would, of course, be all fast asleep in 
bed, some snoring in an alarming manner. 

So at the top of the stairs stood little Leonce shoe- 
less and shivering in his night shirt, but keenly enter- 
ing into the fun. 

Meanwhile the rest were getting up a representa- 
tion of the “Grande Duchesse” pushing the beds to- 
gether for a stage and dressing up the actors in the 
most fantastic apparel. Fulton took the part of the 
Grande Duchess and sang “Void le sabre de mon 
pere, Tu vas le rnettre a ton cote,” etc. All joined in 
the chorus as loud as they dared. 

Bolax made a famous “General Boome,” because 
he was so stout; his costume consisted of his night 
shirt, with a red woolen scarf around his waist; on 
his head was a crimson silk handkerchief, which was 
very stiff and stood up in a point. His cheeks were 
covered with corked whiskers and mustaches. He 
sang : 


[ 168 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


Piff, Paff, Pouf, 

Rut-a-pat-a poom, 

Je sius moi le Generate Boome! 

I am the great General Boome I 

while he strutted up and down the aisle with a dust 
brush for a sword. 

"I say,” said Leonce, “it is very cold standin’ here, 
won’t some one relieve guard?” After waiting a few 
minutes longer, he felt sure there was no danger, and 
therefore ran up to Harrison’s room. 

“What’s up,” asked Harrison. “Oh, we’ve been 
having leap-frog and ‘La Grande Duchesse.’ I’m 
keeping ‘guard,’ but it’s so cold, I thought I’d run up 
to your study.” 

“Little traitor, we’ll shoot you for a deserting sen- 
tinel.” 

“There’s no danger of being caught; besides, the 
fellows are making less row now.” 

“Well, let us go down. I want to see the fun, 
too.” 

Fulton, as Grande Duchesse, was draped artistic- 
ally in a sheet, which trailed behind him, while a 
blue scarf decked his fair head. Placing himself in 
an attitude of intensely affected melodrama he was 
singing: 


Je T’ai Sur Mon Couer, etc. 

I have thee near my heart. 

Suddenly his foot caught in his long trail and 
landed him on his back. This scene tickled the audi- 
ence immensely, and was greeted with shouts of 
laughter. “Cache-cache!” shouted Leonce and took 
a flying leap into his bed. 

[ 169 ] 


BOLAX : 


Instantly there was a bolt in different directions ; 
the candles dashed out, the beds pushed aside, and 
the dormitories at once plunged in profound silence, 
only broken by heavy breathing of the sleepers, when 
in strode Brother Director. 

He stood for a moment to survey the scene. Every 
boy was in bed, but the extraordinary way in which 
the bed clothes were huddled about, told an unmis- 
takable tale. 

As the Brother for a moment crossed over to the 
lavatory, he heard some one move. “Whose there?” 
said he. It was Harrison trying to sneak back to his 
room; seeing he was caught, he came before his 
angry master. “Harrison, is it? I am not sur- 
prised, go to your room, I will settle with you tomor- 
row.” 

Passing again into the large dormitory, Brother 
heard nothing but the deep snores of Fulton, and 
instantly fixed on him as the chief culprit. “Ful- 
ton.” 

No reply, but steady music from that Worthy’s 
bed. “Fulton!” he called still louder and more 
sternly; you sleep soundly, sir, too soundly, get up 
directly,” and he laid his hand on the boy’s arm. 

*“Allez-vous en, ce n’est pas encore temps de se 
lever.” 

“You speak very good French when you’re asleep, 
but the shamming will only increase your punish- 
ment.” The wiley Fulton stretched himself lazily, 
gave a great yawn, and then awoke with such an 
admirably feigned start at seeing Brother Director, 
that Bolax who had been peeping from over the bed 

♦Get away from here, it’s not time to get up. 

[ 170 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


clothes, burst into an irresistible explosion of 
laughter. The Brother swung round on his heel. 
“What ! Allen ! get out of bed, sir, this instant.” 
Bolax forgetful of his disguise sheepishly obeyed, 
but when he stood on the floor, he looked so odd in 
his crimson girdle and corked cheeks, with the light 
of Brother’s lamp shining on him, that the scene be- 
came overpoweringly ludicrous to Fulton, who now 
in his turn was convulsed with a storm of laughter 
faintly echoed from other beds. 

“Tres bien mes amis,” (very w r ell, my friends!) was 
Brother Director’s sarcastic remark, for he was now 
thoroughly angry, “you will hear from me tomor- 
row.” He then walked away with a heavy step. 

Next morning, Mass was no sooner over than the 
boys were summoned to the Study Hall. Brother 
Director began with : “I have a few words to say to 
you. 

“I find there was the utmost disorder in the dormi- 
tories last night. Candles were lighted at forbidden 
hours, and the noise was so great that it was heard 
through the whole building. I am grieved to see you 
cannot be left alone even for a few hours without 
taking advantage of my absence, and that some of 
the older boys, far from using their influence to 
prevent those infractions of discipline, seem inclined 
to join in them themselves, forgetting their position 
in school and abetting the follies of children. You, 
Mr. Harrison, shall be deprived of a privilege which 
you have abused, as a punishment for your conduct 
last night, you will give up your private study until 
the end of the term.” 

“Fulton as the ringleader ought to be caned, but 

[ 171 ] 


BOLAX : 


as this is his first year, I will give him instead three 
days in the Cachot. 

“Allen and the other little fellows who were led by 
him, shall be deprived of recreation for one week. 
Now, boys, just let me ask you if you have not 
enough legitimate pleasures without resorting to such 
fooleries as that of last night ?” 

“In our schools the Brothers make it a practice to 
enter into all amusements with our pupils. This 
summer Fulton and the other American boys saw 
how we went rowing with you, we join in your foot- 
ball games, we even play marbles with the little fel- 
lows, but how would a Christian Brother look 
dressed up as Master Allen was last night? Here 
there was a perceptible smile on Brother Director’s 
face, which gave license for a general titter from 
those who had seen the costume of “General Boome.” 
Now we, as Christian Brothers, are bound to teach 
all who come under our jurisdiction to be Christian 
gentlemen, and we use our best endeavors to that 
end. 

We want all to be happy with us, no boy must 
remain in this College who considers he is treated 
unjustly or harshly, but we will not allow our rules 
to be broken or our authority set aside on any con- 
sideration. 

“Now you may all go to breakfast.” 

After breakfast Honore Bernier and several of the 
French boys congratulated the “Americans” on get- 
ting off with so slight a punishment. You may thank 
your stars it is Brother Benedict, who is Director, he 
is so lenient; if you had been here in Brother John’s 
[ 172 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


time you would all have gotten a dose of Extract of 
Rattan. 

October 31st. 

Dear Mother: Our whole dormitory got into a 
scrape for “cutting up shines” when we should have 
been asleep. I did not realize how foolish it was to 
take fun out of time, until Monsieur Le Curd gave me 
advice on the matter. 

I promised him I would keep all the rules in the 
future and try for the medal. I have started in, and 
although I find it hard work to keep from mischief, 
I manage to save my fun for recreation hour. 

I have joined the Society of St. Aloysius; that 
means great watchfulness over myself to keep from 
offending God in the least manner. 

Darling Mother, I hope you will have reason some 
day to be proud of your loving son, 

B. Allen. 


[ 173 ] 


BOLAX: 


CHAPTER XV. 

Letter From a Friend. 

Palm Beach, November 1st. 

Dear Master Bolax : When you receive this letter 
you will say who is this lady? I never knew her, so 
I must introduce myself . I am a very old friend of 
your mothers; we were schoolmates. When you 
were a tiny baby I saw you and held you in my arms, 
since then I have been traveling in Europe and 
did not see your dear mother until we met down 
here. We often walk out together, and talk of old 
times, but Mamma’s chief topic of conversation is 
her “boy.” You are the core of your mother’s 
heart, and she so hopes to be able to say as you 
grow older, “This is my blessed boy, is he not noble? 
I am so proud of him,” and you will feel all the 
nobleness of your nature grow greater, for any boy 
who can write such sweet, tender letters has the 
Christ Child in his heart and cannot go far wrong; 
only you let the little Pixie, a very tormenting spirit, 
sit on your shoulder at times, and that is the trouble ; 
just you work him off and keep him off ; his name is 
“Lack of Application,” and he whispers in your right 
ear, don’t study hard, let’s have some fun ; you’ll get 
on somehow.” 

Then “Lack of Application” has a little sister, who 
is just as mischievous, her name is: “Procrastina- 
tion,” with these two little Elves so close, and keep- 
ing them as constant companions is the cause of all 
[174] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


our trouble. If you will whisper to the dear Christ 
Child to drive them off, and help you to put the 
cobbles of determination in their place, you will find 
your pathway full of sunshine. 

The Brothers, your instructors, do not mean to be 
severe, but are trying to help you drive away these 
two spirits with whom you have struck up such a 
great friendship. 

Now, my dear boy, you have great talent; study 
that you may be one of the great men and you will 
find those you think are “hard” upon you are your 
best friends and helpers. 

For your mother’s sake, who loves you better than 
her life, make pleasure your friend for your hours of 
leisure, but let Brain, Heart and Hands work during 
working hours. Seek all the knowledge that you 
now have the chance of obtaining for the more you 
know of French, Music, Mathematics and general 
knoweledge, the greater are your chances of success. 

I think I hear you say : “Why did this lady write 
to me ? She don’t know me.” Oh, yes, she does, from 
your letters, and your mother’s description of you. 

I love boys. I have had one of my own ; I know all 
about their funny tricks. I used to wish I had been 
a boy myself. 

Once when a little girl, I kicked and yelled for an 
hour because I was not permitted to climb a chest- 
nut tree, and set traps for rabbits and play shinney 
with the boys. Now don’t you think I know some- 
thing, having gone through all this. 

I think a letter from you to me would be a fine 
thing. We might have a tilt or two with the pen and 
brain, if not with the sword and lance. 

[ 175 ] 


BOLAX : 


As your dear mother tells me you have a loving, 
kind heart. I send you a portion of the love I give 
her and ask you to call me , 

Aunt Anna Euhler. 

L’Islet, P. Q., December 8th. 

Darling Mother: Your sweet letter was received 
yesterday and my heart beat with joy on seeing it. 

Brother will let me have all the books and papers 
you can send. I would like to renew my subscrip- 
tion to Harper’s Young People. I have read all dear 
Father Finn’s books over again, and enjoyed them as 
I did the first time. I know you are under great 
expense on account of Papa’s illness, so do not exert 
yourself trying to send me Christmas money, if it 
becomes necessary I will do without going anywhere 
or getting anything. 

There will be a few boys here to stay over Christ- 
mas and New Year, so I will have a little fun, 
although not as much as if I went to Quebec, St. 
Anne, St. Eugene’s, Cape St. Ignac or Trois Pis- 
tolets. 

Brother Director has told the Brother who cooks 
to clean the butter for me, he will put it in water and 
mash it, thus withdrawing the salty taste and black 
particles. 

I now have a book called “Horsfield’s Method of 
Learning French Language,” and I think it will help 
me very much. It has the French on top and the 
English underneath, as : 

11 est fou, etc., 

He is fool. 

[ 176 ] 


IMP OK AKGEL— WHICH? 


It also has conversation, as : 

Vous avez des cheveuz rouge, 

You have the hairs red. 

Don’t you wish I could write as well as the fellow 
who addressed this envelope? The strongest boy in 
the school is Adolph Bernier, and he is one of my 
best friends. If he had the nerve of Dr. Carroll he 
could lick the world. 

His muscle is almost three times as large as 
Doctor’s, and his legs about eighteen inches round. 

The wind howls around here, and the snow is above 
the fences. We walk on it with snow shoes. 

My love to Papa. Could you send me some alliga- 
tor’s eggs ? 

Your loving son, 

Bolax. 

Palm Beach, December. 

My Noble, Generous Boy: Your letter touched 
Papa to the heart, but there will be no necessity for 
your making such a sacrifice. 

It would grieve me to have my child so far away 
from home, without the means for having a pleasant 
Christmas. Uncle wrote to say he would attend to 
your holiday pleasures, and Papa now sends ten 
dollars. 

We laughed so hearily at your description of how 
the butter was washed for your benefit. 

Dearie, do you remember the stories old Colonel 
O’Brien used to tell us of his campaign during the 
Civil War? How once he was nearly forty-eight 
[ 177 ] 


BOLAX : 


hours without food, and was glad to eat an old piece 
of ham-fat, which he saw a darkey throw out on the 
grass as he rode past ? 

Colonel told us it was the spirit of self-control he 
had learned while at College that enabled him to 
bear hunger, cold, privations of all kinds, while in the 
army. Of course, the food is not expected to be as 
dainty as at home, but it is always wholesome; no 
Catholic College would give bad food to the children 
entrusted to its care. I tried to get the alligator’s 
eggs, but the darkies tell me that it is a hard matter 
to find them; one old fellow told me: “Dem ugly 
beasteses loves dere young like de dogs and cats do, 
dey hide dere eggs and watches round when de time 
comes for de little ones to be hatched out ; you don’t 
better be near at dat time hunten’ eggs or young 
ones, de mudder would snap you up in half a 
minute.” 

I have some curious shells which I will give you 
when I see you ; they would only be destroyed among 
so many boys, if I sent them. 

Pray for Papa, not forgetting your loving mother. 

P. S. — You ask me to describe Palm Beach, so I 
send the advertising pamphlet. The description given 
therein is a perfect pen-picture of the place, much 
better than I can give. I am Papa’s amanuensis and 
he has so many business letters to send I have little 
time for other writing, with love, 

Mamma. 

December 29. 

Bien Chere Maman: Such a happy Christmas as I 
[178] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


have had. At midnight I was awakened by the 
Parish Church bells chiming the Adeste Fidelis. 

The Midnight Mass was celebrated in the College 
Chapel, because the snow is so deep, Monsieur Le 
Cur6 had announced to the Congregation that the 
grand High Mass would be at 6 A. M. in the Parish 
Church. 

I assisted at the Mass in the Chapel. It was my 
first Midnight Mass, and I felt awed by the solemn 
ceremony. 

The grand High Mass was sung by four gentle- 
men from Quebec. Brother would not let me get up 
for it, but I attended Vespers in the evening; they 
had the same choir as at the morning service, with a 
band of music. 

At nine o’clock we were invited to breakfast in the 
Brothers’ dining room. At each “cover” was a box of 
bonbons from Brother Director and our letters from 
home. 

Dear Ma! I was so surprised I cried. I opened 
your dear letter first, really I don’t know how to 
thank you and dear Papa. 

Aunt Lucy and Uncle Carroll sent me ten dollars, 
Uncle Dick, five. I feel as rich as a millionaire, with 
my twenty-five dollars. 


January 20. 

Dear Mamma and Papa : As I was writing the 
above, Monsieur Le Cur6 sent for me to go with him 
to Quebec. You may be sure I jumped at the offer. 

We put up at the Sulpician Seminary. We went 
to see several beautiful churches. 

[179] 


BOLAX : 


Notre Dame de Victoire, built in the time of Louis 
XIV as a votive offering in thanksgiving for a vic- 
tory gained over the English. 

The very same flags and trophys captured then are 
still preserved in this church. 

We saw the ice palace, on the summit of a hill, it 
was illuminated by electricity, and reminded me of 
Aladin’s Castle in the fairy tale. 

No one was allowed to go into it, but you could 
look in at the windows and doors, and see the wax 
figures dressed in fancy costumes. 

You should have heard the joy bells, and the boom- 
ing of the cannon from the citadel ushering in the 
New Year. 

There was no discordant clang, no ear-splitting 
fog horns as in New York, but most of the churches 
having chimes, made an inspiriting melody. 

The Basilica played the Te Deum, Adeste Fidelis, 
and the National Anthem. 

We had midnight Mass in the Seminary, and no 
one went to bed until near morning. 

I must tell you about a little girl we met in the 
street. She was carrying a doll in her arms when 
she slipped and fell; the doll was broken to pieces, 
the poor little thing knelt on the pavement and 
looked sadly at it, then bursting into tears and rais- 
ing her eyes to heaven, she cried out: “Sainte Vi&rge 
mon seul enfant est mort!” (Holy Virgin, my only 
child is dead !) 

It went to my heart to see her, so I picked her up, 
and tried to comfort her; I took her to the nearest 
shop and bought another “child,” when I placed it 
[ 180 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


in her hands, her eyes fairly danced with delight. 
“Oh, mesieu ! I tank yo ! No English speak.” 

Monsieur Le Curd gave her his blessing. As she 
was leaving the store she took up the broken doll, 
we asked her what she wanted with the old, broken 
thing. “Ah, mesieu, one does not throw away dead 
children ; they must be buried.” 

The people here are so full of faith; you will see 
well-dressed gentlemen and ladies stop to say the An- 
gelus in the street if they hear the bell ring. 

I pray our dear Lord, that you, Papa, and all I 
love may have a happy New Year. 

Your affectionate son, 

B. Allen. 

After Christmas holidays it was difficult for the 
boys to settle down to study. The good Brothers, 
who had not forgotten their own boy-life, under- 
stood this and did not draw the reins of discipline 
very tight for the first few days. 

Brother Director made a very pleasant and sensi- 
ble address to the juniors on the duty and benefits of 
being diligent in study. At the close of his “talk,” as 
he termed it, he said : 

“And now boys, I have something to offer you by 
the way of spurring your diligence. Three beautiful 
silver medals have been placed in my hands by three 
gentlemen living in Quebec. These medals are for 
your competiton. If they were intended as rewards, 
I would not be a party to their bestowal. I want my 
pupils to feel that hard, honest study carries its own 
reward with it. Study puts you in possession of 
[ 181 ] 


BOLAX : 


knowledge, which is power, strength, influence and 
pleasure. 

These are rewards to satisfy any virtuous boy with- 
out the addition of gifts. Boys of your age lag a 
little sometimes, and perhaps need something tangi- 
ble to help them on. I hope these medals will keep 
you all up to your mettle, and that although only 
three of you can win them, all will prove yourselves 
worthy of them. One is for keeping the rules of the 
College. One for Composition — English or French. 
One for him who shall pass the best examination in 
all branches of study. 

You are now dismissed until tomorrow morning, 
when I shall expect you to be ready to begin work in 
earnest. 

The boys set up a grand huzza for Brother Direc- 
tor, and then dividing into groups were soon scat- 
tered over the grounds or seated under the sugar 
maple trees. 

All the boys made determined resolutions to win 
the prize. Bolax was especially anxious, because his 
father had objected to his coming to Canada, and he 
wanted to show that his mother’s choice of a College 
was a success. 


Letter to Papa. 

Dear Papa : Now I am in another scrape. Tbe 
fellow that took things from the table has been found 
out; I can’t imagine how. But he declares I told 
Brother Isadore on him. I said it wasn’t true. He 
got red in the face and called me a hypocrite ; said I 
pretended to be a saint because I go to Holy Com- 
munion every week. Papa, I never pretended to be a 
[ 182 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


saint. It isn’t agreeable to have people think you’re 
worse than you really are. 

Your loving son, 

B. Allen. 


Papa’s Answer. 

My Dear Son: How is a boy to become a manly 
man if he has everything and everyone about him 
“agreeable.” I did not send you to College just for 
the French and Latin merely. I could teach you 
those languages, and in fact, all your other lessons if 
I chose. I send you that you may get some knocks 
and bruises ; that you may learn to bear annoyances 
with patience and manliness. 

As long as you live in this world you will meet 
with people who will misunderstand and misjudge 
you. But what of that? You have and always will 
have, if you deserve it, friends who appreciate and 
love you, who will make the best of your good quali- 
ties and the least of your bad ones. Above all, you 
can have the friendship of God by faithfully keeping 
His Commandments. 

Your affectionate 

Father. 


Le Gourmand. 

For some weeks since the boys returned after 
Christmas holidays, Brother Julien, who had charge 
of the dormitories, complained of finding scraps of 
cake, apple cores, etc., hidden behind the water tank 
in the lavatory; no one could tell who placed them 
there. Fulton and Allen knew, but would not in- 
form, although both were very often disturbed bv 
[ 183 ] 


BOLAX : 


hearing Hyacinth Laforge munching apples in the 
bed next them. 

One morning Brother Director came into the Re- 
fectory looking very stern. “I will thank the young 
gentlemen as they pass from the room to turn their 
pockets inside out,” was the bland invitation that 
filled everybody with amusement or consternation, as 
the case might be. 

There was a good deal of laughing and joking, as 
the boys filed out of the room and a great display of 
knives, pencil, bits of string, etc. 

At last the guilty one took his turn. Out came 
apples, crumbs of cake, nuts, a little of everything. 

“So it seems we have a thief among us!” Brother 
Director spoke in a very severe tone of voice. 

“I didn’t suppose you would begrudge me an apple 
or two,” said the boy, throwing the contents of his 
pocket defiantly on the table. 

“Nor do I. If you had come to me or to the 
Brother Procurator, and said: “I am a greedy fel- 
low; I want to eat all I can hold at the table, and 
have something to fall back on between times,” you 
would have been amply provided. But what is that 
bulging out under your jacket? Open it immedi- 
ately. Hyacinth slowly and with a dogged air, un- 
buttoned his vest, when, to the astonishment of the 
Brother, and the great amusement of the boys, out 
came a whole pie. 

Such a laugh as followed! Brother Isadore, who 
was standing near, touched the pie, and finding it 
was still warm, asked when he had managed to cap- 
ture it. The cook answered the question by coming 
on the scene, saying: “That boy ran through my 
[ 184 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


kitchen a minute ago, shouldn’t wonder if he had 
taken something, he’s always sneaking round.” 

“Here Brother, here’s his plunder,” said the 
Director, “Ce n’est bon que pour les poules main- 
tenant!” (It is only fit for the chickens now), an- 
swered the cook, who was very much provoked. 

After the laughter had subsided, Hyacinth received 
a severe and mortifying reproof. 

Brother Director said : “Since eating seems to be 
your chief aim in life, and to save you from stealing, 
your bed shall be moved into the little clothes room 
and a plate of cakes and apples placed so that you 
can munch all night if you wish, without disturbing 
the rest of the dormitory. The boys passed out 
laughing. It is needless to add that the apples and 
cakes were beside the greedy one, every night until 
he was sick of the sight and smell. 

French Letter. 

Mrs. Allen was very anxious that her son should 
write a letter in French, so to please her he sent the 
following : 


College de L’Islet, Janvier 7. 

Bien Chere Maman: Votre card de postal etait 
recu hier et je l’ai lu avec beaucoup de playsir. 

Je suis toujour content a recevoir vos lettres, par- 
ceque vous est mon premier amour, je vous aime plus 
que tout dans le monde et dans le ciel exceptey le bon 
Dieu et la sainte Vierge. 

S il yous play, envoyer moi de l’argent pour achetey 
du sucre blanc. Je n’aime pas le sucre brune. 

Comme ceci est mon premier lettre en francais, si 
[ 185 ] 


BOLAX : 


vous play ne fait pas le fun a mes fautes. 

Je suis avec tout l’amour de mon coeur votre fils. 

B. Allen. 

Translation op Letter. 

My Dear Mamma: Your postal card was received 
yesterday and I read it with much pleasure. 

I am always so glad to receive your letters, because 
you are my first love, my own dearest mother ! 

I love you more than anything in this world or in 
Heaven, except the good God and the Holy Virgin. 

If you please, send me some money. I want to buy 
some white sugar, as I don’t like the brown sugar 
they give here. 

As this is my first French letter if you please 
don’t make fun over my faults. 

I am with all the love of my heart, 

Your son, 

B. Allen. 

Palm Beach, Fla., January. 

My Very Dear Child: Papa and I are much 
pleased with your effort at French letter- writing, you 
spell as the words are pronounced, but you will soon 
learn to correct that. Don’t forget accents. They 
are as important as letters in writing French. I 
enclose two dollars for the sugar. 

Papa is improving in health and spirits in this 
delightful climate. I am writing at an open window, 
with the odor of roses and Jessamine wafting into 
my room. 

Dearest make good use of your time. Papa is par- 
ticularly anxious about your arithmetic, and you 
know that’s your weak point. We are so pleased 
[ 186 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH? 


with the “gold certificate,” it proves you are doing 
your best. Pardon the brevity of this letter, Papa 
is waiting for me to go and watch the alligators 
sporting in the water, but we won’t let them get a 
bite at us. 

Your loving mother, 

M. Allen. 

P. S. — I should not have said “sporting,” for alli- 
gators are sluggish beasts, but often may be seen in 
the mud in clusters, a tail-switching, or a head 
raised, on the watch for prey. 

L’Islet, January 15. 

Bien Chere Mere : I have just received a Christ- 
mas gift from that old lady we always called 
’‘Madame.” You know she never would say my 
name, always calling me “Bon Homme.” 

The following verse is written on the fly-leaf of the 
book she sent. Don’t you think it cute ? 

Sans que je te nomme, 

Mon petit “Bon Homme,” 

Je m’ adresse au ciel ; 

Et je te souhaite 
Une belle fete, 

Un heureux Noel, 

Un coeur pur et sage, 

Voil& le presage, 

D’un bonheur reel. 

Madame. 

Avec beaucoup d’ amour je suis votre fils. 

B. Allen. 

Bien Chere Mere: Vous me demandez encore une 
autre lettre en francais ! Whew ! How am I to man- 
[187] 


BOLAX: 


age it? Why on earth do they have male and female 
verbs, and adjectives, and spell the participles differ- 
ently at every turn. It’s no use, I’ll never do it! 
Brother Director tells me I read well, talk well, pro- 
nounce well, that ought to be enough. 

Hier j’aid<§ le fr&re Pascal, qui est le ciusiniere de 
porte le bois dans la cuisine, without thinking, j’ai 
laisser tomber les morceau de bois dans un chandron 
de soup. 

Le bon frere didn’t get mad, he just said : “Tu a 
fais ton mieux mon petit, voici des pommes en pay- 
ment de votre ouvrage.” I didn’t consider it work, it 
was just play. 

J’ai achete’ des raquettes (snow shoes) we have a 
fine skating rink, and we play hockey every day. 

I had to buy new moccasins, mine were all cut 
after a long walk over a rough road. I have a new 
Cache-nez (muffler) and a surtout; et un casquette 
Canadian, which covers toute ma tete et mes oreilles, 
leaving only my eyes and nose free, so I don’t feel 
the cold, although the thermometer is always below 
zero. 


March 5th. 

Dear Papa and Mamma: It is now three weeks 
since I wrote the above. I have been in the infirm- 
ary, but don’t be alarmed; I’m all right now. The 
way it was, the boys dared me to climb a telegraph 
pole covered with ice. As I had once climbed a 
greased pole, I thought I could manage this one. I 
succeeded somehow, though I had a hard tussle to 
accomplish the feat. 

The boys cheered and made such a racket, one of 
[188] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


the Brothers came out, in my hurry to descend I fell 
when within a few feet of the ground, and broke my 
ankle. Dr. Dion, a fine surgeon, set it, and placed 
my foot in plaster-of-paris. Brother Director wrote 
to Aunt Lucy and Dr. Carorll, but not to Papa or 
you, as it was no use to worry you. I have had the 
best of care, the Brother Infirmarian was a doctor 
out in the world and knows all about nursing. 

I am fed on “sugar and spice and everything 
nice.” 

Monsieur Le Cure sits with me every day. I could 
walk now if they would let me. 

I am not losing my lessons, but keep up as near as 
possible with the classes. 

Brother Director hears me the lessons. Brother 
Paul (the Infirmarian) does not speak a word of 
English, so that will help my French. Give my love 
to dear Papa and to Aunt Euhler. I will write her a 
letter soon, her last about the tame alligator was en- 
joyed by the whole College. She says you all eat alli- 
gator’s tails, that the meat is like chicken. I wish 
you could send one up here, I’d like to taste it. Now 
don’t worry, I’ll soon be as well as ever. 

J’ai l’honneur de me dire, avec une parfaite affec- 
tion. Votre fils — Ahem ! 

Bolax. 

Easter Sunday. 

Bien Cher Papa et Chere Maman: I still continue 
strong and well, and pray that you and dear Papa 
are in good health. I have really tried hard to study 
and keep the rules of the College. With this I send 
[ 189 ] 


BOLAX : 


another “Gold Certificate,” which shows I have given * 
satisfaction. 

I long so to see you as the time approaches for 
vacation. 

I go to Holy Communion every Sunday and First 
Friday, but you needn’t think I am going to be a 
Christian Brother, or a Priest. I would be afraid I 
might get tired and cut up didoes like that Monk we 
read of in Ivanhoe. 

Always votre fils, 

Bolax. 

P. S. — The Monk’s name was Friar Tuck. I re- 
member Uncle Dick telling about him. 

“Hurrah, Hurrah ! for vacation’s coming,” 

And the weeks of Jubilee !” 

Awarding Prizes. 

The weeks rolled on in spite of the oft-repeated 
saying among students, “Vacation will never come.” 
The examinations began on June 15th; quite a num- 
ber of patrons attended. Bolax stood the test of ex- 
amination finely, all things considered, but his for- 
mer lack of application showed itself in several 
things, particularly arithmetic. 

In addition to the three medals given by the gentle- 
men, a prize had been offered for the best declama- 
tion. All prizes were to be awarded at the closing 
exercises on Commencement Day. 

The large exhibition hall was crowded on that 
afternoon, which was a regular fete for the people of 
L’lslet. Great pains had been taken to dress the 
hall, its walls were festooned with evergreens, and 


[ 190 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH? 


the spacious platform gay with flags. 

The boys were dressed in white pants and blue 
jackets. Everything that skill and taste, combined 
with economy, could suggest, had been done to make 
the place attractive, and the occasion pleasant. 

“What uncouth creatures boys are!” observed one 
young lady to a bevy of misses seated near her. 
“Look, there isn’t one in that crowd sitting grace- 
fully, they all act as if their hands were in their way.” 
“You don’t mean to say my brother is ungraceful, do 
you?” asked Julie Bernier. 

“Oh, I’m not referring to the collegiate class ; they 
certainly are gentlemen, but the juniors.” 

“I think,” remarked Anaise Latour, Young Allen, 
one of the American boys, is very graceful, and he 
has such a pleasant expression of face.” 

“Oh, he’s too fat to be graceful,” retorted Julie 
Bernier. 

A general titter followed this remark. Before the 
girls were ready to renew their criticisms, the call 
bell rang. Brother Director announced that the ex- 
ercises would open with an address by Monsieur Le 
CurA 

After the address came the spirited hymn, “Nous 
Sornmes Les Soldats de la Foi” (We are the Soldiers 
of the Faith), played by the College band, and sung 
by all the boys. 

Next on the program came the declamations by the 
juniors, of course, most of the pieces were given in 
French, as few among the audience understood Eng- 
lish. 

George Fulton came first, with a comic piece, tak- 
ing off “Stump Speaking.” This elicited much ap- 
[ 191 ] 


BOLAX : 


plause, because of the excellent mimicry of the 
speaker. 

Bolax Allen gave Joaquin Miller’s “Columbus.” 
As he imitated the Admiral’s “Sail on ! Sail on ! 
Sail on and on!” he thrilled the audience with the 
power of his voice. One could almost fancy they saw 
Columbus as he paced his deck on the eventful night 
before he sighted land. 

Mr. H. Bernier and Mr. L. Harrison entered into a 
comic debate as to the superior merits of their re- 
spective nations. Bernier for the French, Harrison 
for the English. The young gentlemen seemed so in 
earnest, got into a dispute and spoke in such angry 
tones, that every one expected to see them resort to 
fisticuffs. At a point when they appeared to be in a 
rage against each other, old Farmer Tourier hap- 
pened to come into the hall, and being struck with 
what he thought the disgraceful conduct of the boys, 
jumped on the stage to separate them. 

“Have you no respect for Monsieur Le Cur6 and 
the Brothers ? he demanded in a loud voice. 

Monsieur Le Cur6 and the other gentlemen on the 
platform were so convulsed with laughter, it was 
some minutes before any one interfered. The audi- 
ence fairly shouted and clapped, it was a regular 
pandemonium. 

At last one of the Brothers went up to poor old 
Tourier and whispered to him. You should have 
seen his crestfallen appearance when he found he had 
been making a laughing stock of himself. 

Poor old fellow, all summer the villagers laughed 
whenever they met him, as his wife said : 

[ 192 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH ? 


“On a bien ri ce jour lh, et tout le monde rit- 
encore!” (People laughed that day, and they laugh 
yet.) 

Brother Director appointed a committee to decide 
on the merits of the declaimers and to award the 
prize. When these gentlemen arrived at a decision, 
Brother awarded the medals. 

After a brief address by Monsieur Le Cur6, in 
which he showed that the highest reward of study is 
not a medal or prize of any kind, but the mental 
growth and power which comes from it to the stu- 
dent. 

"Still,” he added, “a prize is not to be despised, 
because it symbolizes the diligence, obedience and 
perseverance of the winners. Hence, my boys, I 
wish you ever to set a higher value on the character 
w hich wins, than the prize which is won.” 

The committee of examinations have unanimously 
awarded the silver medal for general excellence in 
all studies to Louis Tascherau. Here cheers were 
given for Louis. 

The silver medal for the best composition is 
awarded to Bolax Allen. Cheers w r ere heartily given 
for Bolax, and the young ladies in the audience could 
not say this boy was not able to make a most grace- 
ful bow. 

The committee on declamation found it very diffi- 
cult to decide between the speakers. There was but 
a shade of difference in favor of Fulton, so he re- 
ceived the medal. George was loudly applauded, for 
he was a jolly fellow, liked by the whole school, mas- 
ters and scholars, although inclined to make fun out 
of time. 


[ 193 ] 


BOLAX: 


To his utter astonishment, Bolax heard his name 
called again, this time to receive a medal for strictly 
keeping the rules of the College, and giving good 
example by his upright conduct on all occasions. 

Huzzas three times repeated showed that he had 
won the good will of his companions. 

As Monsieur Le Cure placed the medal around 
Bo’s neck, he whispered. “I wish your worthy 
parents were here to see your triumph.” 

After the juniors had received their rewards, the 
young collegians were introduced by Brother Di- 
rector. 

Some of them spoke on learned topics, rather 
above the comprehension of many in the audience, 
but evidently highly appreciated by the priests and 
other gentlemen seated on the platform. 

Mr. Brenier received the gold cross, the highest 
reward given to a graduate. T. Harrison and H. de 
Villiers received gold medals for excellence in all 
studies. 

Honors gave the Valedictory, dressed in a long 
black gown and doctor’s cap, he looked very hand- 
some and proved himself a fine orator. He was in- 
terrupted by frequent bursts of applause. At last 
came one tumultuous and prolonged, that proclaimed 
the conclusion of his oration. 

The exercises being ended, the band struck up, and 
all sang the vacation song : 

Quel plaisir nous allous partir 
Les vaeances vont commencer ! 

When the music had ceased, the students with 
their parents and friends, were invited to partake of 
[ 194 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


a simple collation. You may be sure they had a 
merry time over the cake and ice cream. 

After the boys left, the College was so quiet, the 
halls and rooms so empty that Bolax and Fulton 
were overpowered with loneliness. They were the 
only scholars who had to remain. Harrison, the 
other “American” boy, had gone to his uncle in Mon- 
treal to spend his vacation. 

Bolax expected soon to hear from his parents, who 
were on their way to Canada, and Fulton was in- 
vited to spend a few weeks with his chum, de Yilliers, 
at the pretty village of “Trois Pistolets.” 

On the morning of the fourth day of vacation, 
Brother Julien took the boys out for a sail on the St. 
Lawrence. He brought a hamper of good things for 
luncheon, and fishing tackle to give them employ- 
ment. 

They were very lucky and filled a basket with fine 
trout, but just as they were preparing to return the 
wind changed, and the boat was becalmed. 

They had made up their minds to pass the night on 
the water, when fortunately, a strong north wind 
filled the sails, and they steered for home. 

It was after dark when they got to the pier, where 
they found Brother Director and a crowd of vil- 
lagers on their knees praying “La bonne St. Anne,” 
to protect the boat with its precious cargo. 


[ 195 ] 


BOLAX: 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Bolax Leaves College for Vacation. 

The following morning Monsieur Le Curd took 
both boys to the Falls of Montmorency; when they 
returned home in the evening they found a letter 
from Mrs. Allen, telling her son of her safe arrival 
in Quebec and requesting him to come to the Fron- 
tenac Hotel. 

Bolax was overjoyed, and so excited, he could not 
pack his trunk, so Brother Isadore did it for him; 
he took all his belongings, except his books, which 
he gave in charge of the Brothers, because he ex- 
pected to return to College in the Fall. 

Fulton had a very suspicious moisture in his eyes, 
as he shook hands with his merry chum, and Bolax 
hated to leave him alone, but consoled himself with 
the thought that his friend would soon visit de Vil- 
liers, at Trois Pistolets. 

Monsieur Le Cure, and all the Brothers embraced 
“le cher enfant.” “Au revoir” was said, then the 
carriage drove to the station, where Bo took the 
train for Quebec. 

Such a happy reunion of parents and son. Mr. 
Allen was surprised to see his whilom, fat boy so 
tall and shapely and in such splendid health, not- 
withstanding the “grub” he ate at College. 

“Mamma,” said he, “I wonder how the Frontenac 
menu will agree with this young gentleman?” “In- 
deed,” answered Mamma, “I fear not so well as 
L’lslet bill of fare. Good-natured Bo did not mind 
[ 196 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


being teased, but when seated at the table, his appe- 
tite showed that the Frontenac menu was quite to his 
taste. 

Bolax felt he knew quite a little about Quebec 
from his visit at Christmas, so he offered to conduct 
his father and mother to the principal churches and 
places of interest in the environs of the city. 

They visited the monuments of General Montcalm 
and General Montgomery, the brave French and 
English Generals, who were killed at the assault on 
Quebec, 1775. 

Mr. Allen, being an Englishman by birth, took 
great pleasure in examining the men-of-war belong- 
ing to the navy, and one afternoon climbed up to the 
Citadel to see the Fort, and chat with the soldiers. 
Mrs. Allen was not able to walk up such a height, so 
she was carried, seated on a chair strapped to a 
man’s back. 

Captain Wentworth, one of the officers, made him- 
self very agreeable, took them into the Fort, ex- 
plained to Bolax how the cannons were fired off, and 
told of many interesting events relating to the his- 
ory of Canada from the time of the English inva- 
sion, etc. 

Mrs. Allen reminded her husband that it was 
growing late, and although they were being so pleas- 
antly entertained, she thought it time to take leave 
Then Mr. Allen presented his card and thanked the 
officer for his kind courtesy. With the military 
salute, Captain Wentworth bowed, and conducting 
them down the steep descent, wished them “bon voy- 
age.” 


[ 197 ] 


BOLAX : 


A week was spent in Quebec, making purchases 
and getting a new outfit for Bolax, who had out- 
grown all his clothing. Mr. Allen proposed going to 
one of the beautiful suburbs to give his boy an “out- 
ing.” 

“If I had my choice,” said Bo, “I would like to 
spend the whole summer at Montmorency Falls; 
when I was there last week with Monsieur Le Cure, 
we dined at a small hotel, kept by friends of his; 
everything was so comfortable and clean. There 
were three boys, who met us, as we were leaving, they 
had fishing rods over their shoulders, their pants 
stuck into their boots and looked as if they had had 
a jolly day of it. When Monsieur Le Cur6 intro- 
duced me, he called them his “old friends.” They 
invited me to stay with them a week, but I told them 
I expected to be sent for by my parents.” 

“Well, my boy, I would prefer a place of that kind 
where you can have all the fun you want, and 1 a 
quiet time; we have had too much society at Palm 
Beach.” 

So all agreed to go to Montmorency, especially as 
it was at a convenient distance from L’Islet and 
Quebec. During the seven weeks of their visit, 
Bolax made himself very agreeable to every one, and 
became a general favorite especially among the boys 
and girls, because he was an adapt in all games and 
always ready for fun. 

Among the boarders was an invalid, who spent 
most of his time seated in a corner of the piazza. 
Mr. Allen often entertained him, and Bolax would 
leave his companions to talk to him because he looked 
“so lonely.” His name was “Cartier;” he prided 
[ 198 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH? 


himself on being a direct descendant of the famous 
Jacques Cartier, one of the first explorers of Canada. 

One day in speaking to Mr. Allen, the old gentle- 
man praised Bolax for the thoughtful kindness he 
had shown him on all occasions, at the same time 
remarking it was a pity the boy should have been 
given such an odd name. 

“I admit it is an odd name,” answered Mr. Allen, 
“and I doubt if any one ever owned it before.” 
“Well,” said Monsieur Cartier, “it suits Bolax for he 
certainly is an odd boy — a remarkable mixture of 
king’s fool and profound philosopher.” 

*•* •* * * * * # * * * * 

The nineteenth of July, St. Anne’s Day, was to be 
celebrated with great pomp and ceremony in the 
Basilica, at Beaupr6. Bolax wanted to join the Pil- 
grimage going from L’Islet, but his mother and 
father preferred visiting the shrine when there would 
be less of a crowd. 

On the twenty-second of August, our friends put 
on their traveling array once more, the note of prepa- 
ration was struck, the destination this time being St. 
Anne de Beaupr6. When all was ready for their 
departure, they took leave of the pleasant company 
at Montmorency, but their hostess, Madame Coteau, 
would not hear of an “Adieu;” it must be an “Au 
revoir,” said the kind woman. “You must stop on 
your way back.” 

'“That’s true,” agreed Mr. Allen, “we will be 
obliged to pass this way on our road to L’lslet, sup- 
pose we leave our trunks and take only handbags. 
We won’t need anything more for the ten days we 
propose remaining at Beaupre. 

[ 199 ] 


BOLAX: 


Justement! I’m glad you thought of that. Now 
we are sure of your return. All bid a warm-hearted 
“good-bye,” too warm for Mr. Allen, who being an 
Englishman, could not appreciate the French cus- 
tom of men embracing, but he submitted with grace, 
when dear old Monsieur Cartier put his arms around 
his neck and wished him a fervent “God bless you.” 

Arrived at Beaupre, our friends made their first 
visit to the Basilica. They were just in time for 
Benediction, not wishing to disturb the congrega- 
tion they knelt at the door, but the Beadle (an im- 
posing personage in red cassock and bearing a staff) 
came and invited them into a pew. 

After Benediction several men and women knelt 
before the shrine of St. Anne; one mother held up a 
child in her arms, imploring its cure, she prayed 
aloud : “Oh ! bonne Ste. Anne guerissez mon enfant, 
je vous suplie, au non de Jesus a qui rien n’est impos- 
sible.” (Oh, Blessed St. Anne cure my child, I beg 
of you, in the name of Jesus, to whom nothing is im- 
possible.) 

Mr. Allen looked on, then turning to his wife, 
whispered: “There was a time when I would have 
considered this rank superstition, but now I am 
greatly edified, for I see the faith and devotion of 
people is fervent and sincere. 

When they left the Church, Mr. Allen surprised 
his wife and son by telling them that his chief desire 
now was to make a retreat and prepare for Baptism. 
Mrs. Allen was so overjoyed, she rushed back into the 
Church, threw herself on her knees and thanked our 
Lord. Bolax and his father followed and all knelt 
in prayers of gratitude for so great a favor. 

[ 200 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL — WHICH ? 


A few paces from the Basilica stood Hotel Orleans, 
to which they had been recommended by Monsieur 
Cartier; having secured rooms, they went out for a 
walk. They climbed a hill from which they saw a 
beautiful panorama of white sails and verdant 
islands set like jewels on the bosom of the St. Lawr- 
ence. 

The next morning after Mass, Mr. Allen went to 
the Monastery and asked the Abbot to allow him to 
begin his retreat. The good Priest was delighted to 
receive him and found on examining his neophyte 
that he was very well informed on religious matters 
and firmly believed in all the truths of the Catholic 
religion. 

When Mr. Allen entered on his retreat, he re- 
quested that no one should visit him. His wife and 
son willingly agreed to make the sacrifice of being 
separated from him for a time, so that their beloved 
one might give all his attention to preparing for the 
most important events of his life, viz : The reception 
of Baptism and Holy Communion. 

Bolax accompanied his mother to all the chapels 
and shrines in the neighborhood. They went up the 
Holy Stairs on their knees, at the top was a figure of 
Pilate, and one of Christ standing, both life-size. In 
other Chapels were representations of the different 
stages of our Lord’s passion; all the figures were 
life-size and so realistic as to startle one, who came 
upon them unawares. In a tiny room with barred 
windows, resembling a prison, Bolax came upon the 
statue of Christ as He is being crowned with 
thorns. The God-man sits with His Garments torn 
from His limbs, which are covered with wounds; 

[ 201 ] 


BOLAX: 


streams of blood flow from the divine face; a soldier 
is in the act of spitting on Him, another driving the 
thorns into the sacred head. On seeing this, the boy 
burst into tears, he felt as though he was really in 
the presence of his suffering Redeemer. Knowing the 
effect such a pitiful sight would have on his mother, 
he went with her everywhere, carefully avoiding the 
distressing image. 

One day while watching the sailboats landing the 
pilgrims, Bo heard his name called, looking around 
he saw Leon Casgrainie, his mother and sister, from 
L’lslet; they were so glad to meet again. Bo intro- 
duced his mother. Madame Casgrainie embraced 
Mrs. Allen as if she had been an old friend, for these 
Canadians are so full of hearty friendliness. In a 
few days the ladies were almost on intimate terms. 

The day appointed for Mr. Allen’s reception into 
the Church was August thirty-first. Madame Cas- 
grainie expressed a wish to be present, so Mrs. Allen 
invited her and the children to the ceremony, which 
was to take place at the seven o’clock Mass, in the 
Chapel of the Sacred Heart. 

The altar was a blaze of light ; tiny electric lamps 
of all colors were placed in every available position, 
and full-blown roses shed sweet perfume over all. 

The Abbot celebrated Mass. Just before the Offer- 
tory, he read the prayers admitting a catechumen to 
Holy Baptism. Mr. Allen bowed his head in all 
humility while the Priest poured upon him the sav- 
ing water which made him a child of God and heir 
to Heaven. Immediately after this the Abbot placed 
a white cope over the newly baptized, emblematic 
[ 202 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


of the purity with which his soul was adorned by 
this most Holy Sacrament. 

After the Priest’s Communion, Mr. Allen mounted 
the altar steps, still wearing the white robe and re- 
ceived our Lord for the first time. At the “Domine 
non sum dignus,” the tears rolled down his cheeks; 
he was so overcome with the sanctity of the act, so 
full of faith and love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacra- 
ment. Mrs. Allen and Bo also went to Holy Com- 
munion. After Mass, Mr. Allen asked that his wife 
and son be admitted to see him. I have no words to 
describe the ecstasy of delight that thrilled their 
hearts when congratulating the beloved one. Mr. 
Allen pressed them both to his heart in silence. When 
he could speak, he said: “I feel our Angel child is 
rejoicing with us on this, the happiest day of my life. 
The good Abbot came to bid farewell, and shed tears 
of joy while bestowing the Papal Benediction on the 
family. 

A few days after the events related, our friends 
were compelled to leave the holy place and take their 
departure for L’Islet; Madame Casgrainie offered to 
take them on her steam yacht, and begged them to 
accept the hospitality of her house during their stay 
in the village. Mr. Allen thanked the amiable lady, 
but told of his promise to return to Montmorency. 
“That can be easily arranged,” said Mrs. Allen. “We 
are not in need of our trunks; after our visit to 
L’Islet we can keep our engagement with our friends 
at Montmorency and send Bo’s baggage to him by 
express. 

The next morning the yacht steamed out of the 
harbor bearing away a jolly party, young and old 
[ 203 ] 


HO LAX: 


were full of merriment, so true it is that a clean con- 
science makes a happy heart. The mid-day bells 
were chiming the Angelus as they landed at the pier, 
where Monsieur Le Cur6 and Brother Director gave 
them a warm welcome to L’Islet. The good, old gen- 
tleman insisted on having his niece and her family 
dine at the Parsonage every day, for, said he, “I 
must see all I can of you, my children, it may be my 
last opportunity.” Bolax conducted his father and 
mother through the College ; they were perfectly sat- 
isfied with all the arrangments, and thanked the 
good Brothers for the interest they had shown in 
their son. 

Madame Casgrainie proved herself a most enter- 
taining hostess, she was lavish in her attention to her 
guests and made their visit to her a never- to-be-for- 
gotten pleasure. 

On September 8th, the whole family went on an 
excursion to Isle St. Roch. This is a charming spot. 
On the island is a ledge of rocks, and seemingly 
carved on the stones can be seen the footprints of a 
man and those of a dog; they extend the length of 
half a mile and are then lost in a maze of tangled 
brushwood. The pious people of the place believe 
that St. Roch, the great hunter, came here long ago 
and left his footprints and those of his faithful dog. 
The ladies and girls roamed over the island gather- 
ing blue berries, and the boys caught a basket of fine 
fish. While they were resting, after a substantial 
luncheon, a shrill sound floated down from high over- 
head. Gazing up, Bolax traced aloft against the blue 
sky, the V-shaped phalanx, pointed southward of the 
[ 204 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


wild goose — the swift Canadian bird by its own in- 
stinct following after summer heat. 

“Ma, dear,” said the boy, “I fear that is the signal 
for your departure; the frosts come soon after the 
passage of those big birds, and Papa will not be able 
to bear our cold winds. But, oh, how I shall miss 
you!” “My darling, my heart will be very empty 
without you, but your father and I make the sacrifice 
of leaving you because we are sure you are under the 
best of care, both for your temporal and spiritual 
interests.” 

Madame Casgrainie and her daughter comforted 
Bolax, promising to have him at their house as often 
as the Brothers would permit. “After all, Bo,” said 
Leon, “you are better off than most boys, even if you 
are a thousand miles from home; you have your 
uncle, Monsieur Le Cur6, so cheer up and let us have 
a race on this hard beach. Whoever wins shall have 
the biggest peach in the basket. (Peaches are a 
rarety in Quebec, and its environs and are very 
costly.) 

That evening Mr. Allen had a long talk with his 
son. He gave sound advice on several points, nota- 
bly the following : “Let conscience be your king, and 
never attempt to weaken or to deviate from its com- 
mands. It is God’s merciful messenger within you 
to testify of Himself, to warn you of danger, and 
point the right. Beware of trifling with conscience 
or of weakening its force. You can do so, but when 
you have silenced it, you will be left like a man, who, 
on a dark night, in a strange country extinguishes 
his lantern. 


[205 ] 


BOLAX : 


There are three words which perhaps every school 
boy has written as a text-hand exercise, but which 
few lay to heart while they are following the copy. 
They are these: ‘Sin causes sorrow.’ A mighty 
truth; would that every boy would so learn it that 
the suffering which sin inevitably brings with it 
might be escaped. 

Be truthful in the slightest matters; never allow 
yourself to exaggerate. Have your mind occupied 
always with something good, pure, useful. Remem- 
ber the old saying, 4 A vacant mind is the devil’s 
workshop.’ Beware of the slightest propensity to 
evil, no pleasure derived from sense can be compared 
with the tranquil joy which springs from a pure 
heart. 

“Let me tell you, my dear child, boyhood with all 
its little griefs and troubles, is the most joyous time 
of life ; its very spring time when everything is fresh 
and beautiful. I did not appreciate it when I was a 
boy, but now I sometimes sigh for it. If boys who 
are longing for the time to come when they may be 
men could only know what a man’s life and work 
mean, they would pray to be kept at school all their 
lives. 

I wish I could gain the ear of all the boys in the 
world, I would say to them affectionately, in the 
language of the Holy Apostle St. Paul. Be strong; 
shun anything and everything that has a tendency to 
weaken your mental and moral life. 

“For you, my beloved son, I now say : Be strong 
in the grace you will obtain by constantly and de- 
voutly approaching the Sacraments. If the love of 
[206 ] 


IMP OR ANGEL— WHICH? 


God is the motive power of your life, yon will grow 
from a noble boy into a noble man.” 

Father, mother and son sat together late into the 
night; then kneeling in devout prayer they retired 
to rest. 

At seven o’clock on Wednesday morning, Monsieur 
Le Cure sent his carriage to take his niece and her 
husband to the station. Madame Casgrainie and 
Mrs. Allen bade each other a tearful farewell. 

When on the train, Bolax bravely suppressed his 
emotion, so that the parting should not be too pain- 
ful for his parents; then Monsieur Le Cur6 invited 
him to spend the night at his house, hoping to com- 
fort him. In the morning, our brave boy entered the 
College, where he found that several of his class- 
mates had returned. Fulton, Adolph and Tardeef 
gave him a hearty greeting ; soon they were exchang- 
ing droll stories and making each other laugh at 
their adventures during vacation. On the whole, 
Bolax’s second year opened with pleasant prospects 
and under more promising auspices than that which 
had preceded it. 

Here we must leave our hero, asking the readers 
who are interested in his story to pray that his 
future life may prove all that his parents are trying 
to make it, viz: Pure, honest and noble in every 
sense of the word. 

END. 


[ 207 ] 





A 




mays? 1907 




